Closure
by Sue Denham
Summary: It’s a new term at Cackles, but is everything really back to normal after the events of Parents’ evening, or are there still a few unresolved issues? - Follows on from ‘A Night to Remember’.
1. Chapter 1

**_Much to my surprise, I've written a sequel to 'A Night to Remember'. _**

**_Thanks to LisaT for her patience in beta-ing this for me. _**

* * *

Amelia Cackle brought her broomstick gently into land on the track that ran up through the woods and winced slightly as her knees complained about the landing.

She had to admit to herself that she wasn't getting any younger and her joints were most definitely beginning to complain when she subjected them to long haul broomstick flights.

"Hover," she told her broom firmly and tapped it. The broom immediately obeyed and Amelia set about rearranging her luggage.

Although the castle was still a good fifteen minute walk away, Amelia confessed to herself that she was always fond of the walk through the wood. A path wound its way between the trees and, with the sun dappling down upon the branches, it made the whole thing quite beautiful.

"Follow me," she instructed her broom and watched as it effortlessly took up the strain of her luggage and bobbed along behind her. She was beginning to think that it was no longer necessary to tell her broom to do anything; she'd had it so long that it seemed to know her every command, almost before she made it. She sighed and wished that everything in life could be as easy and straightforward to communicate with as a broom.

As she made her way slowly along the winding, uneven track, her mind flashed back to the events of the previous week. The school had come close to falling victim to the powers of a magical entity and only the timely actions of Constance Hardbroom and Mildred Hubble had thwarted the entity's ambitions. The idea of her deputy working in tandem with Mildred Hubble was something that Amelia was still finding hard to reconcile. Mildred's propensity for finding trouble in the most unlikely places had done little in the past two years to endear her to the supremely organised and no-nonsense Constance, but evidence showed that the two of them had somehow found a way to work together to save the school and the lives within it.

Amelia sighed heavily as she thought about her deputy; she had tried talking to Constance about the way that the evening had unfolded but she'd been reticent to talk about the matter and had managed to avoid giving any straight answers.

Amelia had wanted to stay and pursue the matter but duty beckoned and she'd had to leave promptly the following morning to attend a conference at Pentangle's Academy. She sighed again as she thought of all the speeches and talks that she'd been forced to sit through during the past week. She'd been distracted the entire time and was certain that that fact had not gone unnoticed by certain members of the Witches Guild. She pushed the worry aside; that was something that, quite frankly, the WitchesGuild were going to have to deal with.

Amelia stumbled slightly as she felt her broom prod her gently in the back.

"Alright," she told it grumpily. "I'm going as fast as I can."

She turned her attention back to the winding path in front of her as it began to climb more steeply through the trees towards the summit.

As she reached the top of the climb and turned the corner, a view of the castle was finally revealed to her and she felt the smile spread across her face as she stared up at its imposing façade.

She remembered being scared of the tall craggy building with its crumbling towers and collapsing battlements as a young girl. Her mother had brought her and her sister Agatha to the castle and Agatha, being Agatha, had wasted no time in trying to scare her with stories of ghosts and spectres that were supposed to haunt the corridors and dungeons of the rambling old place. She had been absolutely petrified and it had taken all her mother's cajoling and promises of cheesecake to get her inside. Amelia smiled back at the memory and wondered fleetingly if that was where her love for all things cheese related had its founding.

Her fear of the castle had quickly vanished as she explored its myriad corridors and rambling dungeons and she soon grew to think of it as a dear friend. In return, over the years, the castle had given up more of its secrets to her, and Amelia now felt as though the walls were welcoming her as she returned from being away for any length of time. She'd feel the familiar whisper of magic in the air and know that she was home.

She felt that welcome now as she began the steep climb towards Walker's gate. Once back inside the walls, she would reward herself with a generous slice of cheesecake and then begin to deal with the mountain of letters that she was certain would have been sent during the past week. Her good mood dimmed a little at the thought of the task that lay ahead but she squared her shoulders and promised herself that she would not shirk from the task, however taxing it might prove to be.

Within the castle, all was quiet. Rooms that were usually bursting with the chatter and activity of young minds were shrouded in silence and the air seemed unusually still without their presence. Dust found its way onto the surfaces and settled into crevices, determined to gain a foothold before the staff and pupils returned.

Not all the rooms in the castle were abandoned however. Within the potions lab, a figure stood at the front bench, their attention seemingly bound up completely in the work that lay spread out in front of them. A mini cauldron was bubbling gently away on the bench's wooden surface and puffs of smoke occasionally issued from the cast iron pot, adding a pale blue hue to the air.

Constance Hardbroom raised her head from her work, her concentration disturbed by something. She tilted her head and listened intently to the noises within the castle. The building was never truly silent as far as she was concerned; the absence of people was not enough to completely silence the walls. Constance closed her eyes and concentrated on filtering out the soft bubbling of the cauldron in front of her, seeking out the sounds that she was certain she had heard. She caught the sound of soft padding upon the stone flags and a low, constant, rumbling.

Constance opened her eyes and turned her glance to the end of the long wooden workbenches that stretched across the room.

"Just checking up on me, are you?" she asked softly.

Moments later a small black-furred face appeared from behind the benches, yellow eyes looking intently at her. The low rumbling grew louder as Morgana turned up the level of her purr.

Constance sighed as her cat padded into view; although Morgana usually enjoyed the freedom of the castle whilst the pupils were away, it wasn't like her to constantly seek to be in the same room. During the past week however, her cat had barely left her side.

"And just what is bothering you?" she asked the cat as she set aside the ingredients she had been preparing.

Morgana sat down and regarded her mistress from a distance; her tail curling around to cover her front paws.

"Wouldn't you rather be off chasing the mice or scaring the bats?" Constance asked her.

Morgana stared at her solemnly for a few seconds before rising to her feet and padding gently over to Constance's desk. She jumped up nimbly upon the desk, her paws carefully avoiding all the ingredients that were liberally scattered upon its surface. She moved to the notebook that was covered in Constance's neat, precise handwriting and sat down upon it.

Constance looked down at the cat and folded her arms.

"Now you know that that never works," she told her firmly.

Morgana simply stared up at her and mewed.

After a few seconds of the standoff, Constance let out a heavy theatrical sigh.

"Oh very well," she told the cat. "I'll take a break."

Morgana rose to her feet and mewed again. This time making it plain that she wanted some attention.

Constance rolled her eyes.

"You really are a most persistent cat," she told Morgana flatly, as she reached forward to scratch her behind the ears. "I wonder sometimes where you get it from."

* * *

Elsewhere in the school, Imogen Drill pushed open the door to the staff room and smiled as she breathed in the familiar mixture of old wood and flowers. When it was empty, there was always something relaxing and welcoming about the staff room. She dropped her mud-splattered rucksack down upon the floor and glanced around at the room. As her gaze passed over the stationary cupboard, she wondered fleetingly if Davina Bat was sitting inside it. She shook the thought out of her head; she'd seen the older witch departing in a rather haphazard manner on her broomstick the previous week. They had all wanted to get away from the school as quickly as possible after the events of parents' evening. Imogen rubbed a hand across the back of her neck at the memory… or rather lack of memory… of the evening. She had gone away and thrown herself wholeheartedly into an outward-bound course in an effort to bury the unease she had felt at the end of that particular night. It hadn't worked though and Imogen resolved to go and see Miss Cackle before lessons began the next day. She didn't want to cause unrest within the school but she had to get to the bottom of whatever it was that Constance had done to her.

As she had entered the school through Walker's Gate, she had been expecting to feel the familiar 'atmosphere' that the school always seemed to have. Davina had told her that it was the magic in the air checking her out, but Imogen had always laughed off the suggestion. This time however, that welcoming feeling had been missing; the corridors to her had just felt empty. She'd tried to shake the chill that had settled upon her shoulders and told herself that the place only felt so empty because the girls were missing.

She took another look at the empty staff room and resolved to see Miss Cackle without delay. Last term had ended with sneaking around and whispering behind hands. She wanted this term to be a clean slate; wanted everything to be out in the open, whatever the consequences.

That thought at the forefront of her mind, she turned on her heel and headed out of the staff room, certain that Miss Cackle would already be back and preparing for the new term.

* * *

Mildred Hubble landed her broomstick in the courtyard, relieved that the crosswind that had threatened to blow her into one of the turrets had dropped at the last minute. Visions of marking her return to the school by crashing into the weather vane had been running through her mind as her broom had twisted and turned, fighting against the wind.

She pulled the broom from behind her and tapped it gently.

"Well done broom," she told it, believing that credit should be given where it was due.

She looked around the empty courtyard, watching the leaves as they scurried around in the breeze, wondering just where everyone else was. A thought ghosted across her mind and a worried expression formed on her face.

"Were we supposed to be back today?" she asked out loud and received a nervous mew from Tabby, who was sitting in his cat basket, relieved to once again be back on solid ground.

"Mildred!"

Mildred turned her head at the call and waved as she caught sight of Miss Drill crossing the courtyard.

"Hi Miss."

"What are you doing back so early?"

Mildred frowned. "I was beginning to think that I'd got the time wrong."

Imogen glanced at her watch as she came to a halt beside Mildred. "The others aren't due back until later. For once in your life, you're early."

Mildred smiled at the reference to her persistent lateness. "But I'm sure that the letter said to be back this morning." She fished around in her bag and finally drew out a rather crumpled letter. "See." She made an attempt to smooth the letter out and handed it over for Miss Drill to examine. "It says to be here by ten o'clock."

Imogen glanced at the letter. "Well it's eleven o'clock now Mildred, so it looks as though you're as late as usual."

"I wonder why I have to be here so early?"

"I expect Miss Cackle wants the chance to talk to you about what happened during parents evening," Imogen told her. "Come on, I'm going that way. I'll give you a hand with your things."

* * *

In the potions lab, Constance sighed as she heard the familiar sound of booted feet making their way along the corridor outside. Although she had already felt the presence of others within the school, it was the sound of booted feet that confirmed the return of the girls. The school would be waking up soon, the corridors returning to life and the daily routine re-established. Whilst she welcomed the return to normality, there was always a part of her that missed the quiet calm of the holidays and the chance to settle down and get on with some complex potion experimenting; the sort of work that couldn't safely be done in the presence of pupils, who seemed to think that they had to stick their noses into every cauldron they passed and who reacted badly when it resulted in their noses turning blue or their hair falling out.

She looked round at the ingredients that were still spread out across the table. It was time to pack everything away and lock certain things away from prodding fingers and prying eyes. She closed her notebook and flexed her fingers. Time was of the essence and so a simple clear away spell wouldn't be out of order. She raised her hands and felt the familiar build up of magic…She was about to release the spell when she clenched her fingers into fists and lowered her hands again. There were some things that could be accomplished just as easily without recourse to magic she told herself, trying to ignore the thump of the headache that had been plaguing her waking hours for the past week.

* * *

Mildred perched on the edge of the chair in Miss Cackle's office and regarded her headmistress as the older woman searched through a pile of letters, apparently looking for something specific. She'd been summoned to this particular office so many times during the past two years that she no longer felt the need to gaze round at the walls and try and read the titles of the books that sat in the bookcase. She knew each ornament that sat on the shelves and she could remember every grade that was listed on the certificates that lined the walls. One thing she could never do however was feel comfortable sitting in the chair across from Miss Cackle. It wasn't that she found Miss Cackle intimidating; it just seemed that there was something about the chair that was inherently uncomfortable. Miss Hardbroom had a look that made Mildred uncomfortable; Miss Cackle had a chair.

"Ahh Mildred." Miss Cackle finally seemed to locate what she was looking for and glanced at Mildred over the top of her glasses. She took in the unease on the face of her student and smiled. "Don't worry Mildred; you're not in any trouble."

She saw the way that Mildred's shoulders relaxed slightly at the news. "I asked you to come back a little earlier than the others as I wanted the opportunity to have a little chat with you about what happened during parents' evening."

Amelia watched as Mildred tensed again.

"What has Miss Hardbroom said?" Mildred asked immediately.

Amelia sighed. She'd had been hoping that Mildred wouldn't ask that particular question. "It doesn't matter what Miss Hardbroom has said," Amelia told her encouragingly. "I want to hear about the events of the evening from your perspective."

She watched as Mildred bowed her head and fiddled with her plaits. She smiled in what she hoped was an encouraging manner. "Just take your time dear."

"I know it's all my fault," Mildred began but Miss Cackle shook her head.

"Let's not worry about who cast the first spell," she smiled at Mildred. "This isn't about apportioning blame; I just need to be able to get a clear picture of what happened so that I can make my report to the Witches Guild."

Mildred's eyes widened in fear.

"Witches Guild?" she stammered. "Do they really need to know?"

Miss Cackle nodded. "We're going to have to borrow money to get the Great Hall repaired and I'm certain that more than a few parents will have sent letters to the Guild, as well as to me asking for an explanation as to what occurred."

Mildred fidgeted in her seat, unsure of what to say.

"Just tell me what happened after Miss Hardbroom cast the freezing spell," Amelia tried her best to encourage Mildred.

Mildred shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her feet.

"I know that Miss Hardbroom had sensed some sort of magical entity in the air." Amelia tried to coax Mildred into talking. "What happened to it?" She watched as Mildred shrugged her shoulders again and shifted uncomfortably on her seat.

"Mildred?" she prompted but her pupil only shook her head and blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"It's alright Mildred." Amelia told the young girl softly. "We'll leave it for now; but I would like to see you again, when you find things a little easier to talk about. Is that alright?"

Mildred nodded slowly and wiped her eyes.

"Run along then. The others aren't due back for a little while but I'm sure your bats will be pleased to see you."

Mildred pushed the chair back from the table and rose to her feet. She mumbled a few words of thanks in Miss Cackle's direction and was about to head from the room, when she remembered the homework that she'd been set.

"Miss." She raised the sheets of paper that she'd been clutching in her hand. "I've got the lines that Miss Hardbroom told me to complete."

"Then I suggest that you take them straight to her," Amelia told her. "I think you'll find that she's presently in the potions lab."

"Miss," Mildred mumbled, wishing that Miss Cackle would simply take the work from her.

"Was there something else?" Amelia questioned as she noticed the way that Mildred appeared to be hanging back.

"No Miss," Mildred replied quietly and, turning around silently, left the room.

Amelia watched her go and wondered just what had happened that evening to make Mildred so upset. She folded her arms across her chest and knew that she'd have to have a long chat with Constance, whether Constance liked the idea or not.

* * *

Mildred wiped at her eyes as she made her way quickly along the corridor towards the potions lab. She felt such an idiot for making a scene in front of Miss Cackle but try as she might; she found that she couldn't think about the magical entity without it having an effect on her.

Her parents had very cautiously asked her what had happened but Mildred had found that she was unable to explain anything to them. In the end she had tried to fob them off with a story about a simple potion getting out of hand but she knew that they weren't convinced. She'd not told them about her nightmares and her sleepless nights because she knew that they'd want to talk to Miss Cackle about it, or want to keep her home from school.

There was only one other person that she could possibly talk to about what had happened; only one other person who knew what had transpired that evening. Even if there had been the slightest possibility that HB would be receptive to such an idea, Mildred wasn't certain that she was ready to talk to HB about anything yet, let alone parents' evening. The image of HB standing there with black ovals where her eyes were supposed to be was one of the main things that plagued Mildred's nightmares.

Although HB herself had told Mildred that it was all over and that nothing was wrong, Mildred wasn't convinced. Surely something like that was going to have a long term effect. Losing control of your mind wasn't something that you just shrugged off and put behind you as though nothing had happened; well Mildred was fairly convinced that that was the case.

She came to a halt outside the potions lab and took a deep breath, the door was sitting ajar and she could make out the figure of HB sat at the desk at the front; a mountain of work piled up next to her. Although going to see HB was an event that Mildred usually dreaded, this visit seemed somehow worse than normal.

"Are you planning on standing outside my door all day Mildred Hubble?" Miss Hardbroom questioned without raising her head from the work that she was doing. "Or did you come here for a reason?"

"Sorry Miss." Mildred tried to suppress her nerves as she stepped into the room.

"Well Mildred," Constance snapped. "What is it that you want?"

Mildred raised the papers she was holding in her right hand. "I've done the lines and the essay you set me," she explained quietly.

Constance clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Well don't hang around back there like some lost soul; place them on the table and go on your way."

Mildred made her way quietly to the front trying not to disturb the work that her teacher was obviously engaged in.

Constance raised her head when she realised that Mildred was still hanging around next to her desk. "Just put the papers down girl." She watched as Mildred looked desperately for space on the desk. Sighing impatiently, she held out a hand and clicked her fingers. "For goodness sake Mildred, must you make a drama out of every little thing?"

She took the papers from her pupil and slapped them down upon the pile of work that sat next to her. She hoped that Mildred would take the hint and leave.

Moments later, she raised her head and realised that Mildred had made no effort to move.

"Was there something else Mildred?" she asked in a tired tone.

Mildred shifted her weight from one foot to the other and questioned whether or not she was doing the right thing.

"Well!" HB's tone was beginning to sound impatient.

Mildred took a deep breath and then took the plunge. "I can't stop thinking about what happened on parents' night." She heard HB sigh but ploughed on. "Every time I try and get sleep, I see the entity. I was wondering if it was having the same effect on you."

HB snorted. "It most certainly is not."

"It's scaring me," Mildred admitted and raised her head to look at HB; surprised that her teacher's face seemed to soften slightly.

"Don't worry Mildred. The entity has gone. Put it from your mind."

"I can't," she admitted nervously.

Mildred watched as HB 'hmmed' to herself.

"If this problem with disturbed sleep continues then I want you to report back to me; the last thing I need is for you to start falling asleep during class; it's hard enough to keep you engaged when you're fully awake."

"Yes Miss."

"Was there anything else?" HB's tone returned to its usual impatient state.

"No Miss," Mildred finally replied and turned on her heel.

Constance watched Mildred go and then closed her eyes momentarily, calling to mind a very particular incantation. She muttered the spell beneath her breath and directed it towards the retreating pupil. Satisfied that she'd done enough to quell Mildred's nightmares; Constance returned her attention to the pile of work that had already managed to accumulate on her desk.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first part and my apologies for not getting back to you. I was a little scared that people would find the first part boring, but I knew that I had to set the scene for the start of the new term.**_

_**Apologies also for the delay in posting this part; real life keeps getting in the way.**_

* * *

Amelia watched Miss Drill as the young teacher shuffled nervously on her seat and picked at her nails. Imogen had been in the room for a few minutes and had not made any effort to explain what it was she wanted to talk about.

Amelia sought a way to break the silence.

"Would you like anything? Tea, Coffee… slice of cheesecake?"

Imogen raised her head. "What?" she asked distractedly. "No, thanks, I'm fine."

"If you don't mind me saying," Amelia disagreed with her colleague. "You appear to be anything other than fine."

Imogen smiled. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just finding this harder to explain than I realised."

"Take your time," Amelia advised, beginning to wish that she'd not mentioned cheesecake as she was now beginning to get a serious craving for it.

Imogen shuffled in her seat again.

"Davina wasn't completely honest with you last term when she told you about the business with Constance's file from the WTC." She decided that it was best to get to the heart of the matter. She raised her hands. "I know we shouldn't have done it but there are times when Constance is just…." Imogen broke off, wanting to check how her words were being received.

Amelia smiled weakly. "I know Constance can seem a little harsh at times."

Imogen shook her head. "It's not just that," she tried to explain. "I guess we just wanted to know a little something about her." She looked down guiltily at her hands. "Wanted to get a little dirt on her."

"Dirt?" Amelia questioned, and then her eyes widened as she realised what her colleague was getting at. "Ahh, I see."

Imogen shrugged her shoulders. "I know it was a stupid thing to do but we did it."

"And that's what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Not exactly." Imogen leant forward and rested her hands on the edge of the desk.

"As things were starting to get out of control during parents' evening, I saw flashes of pages in that file. Images and sensory memories of looking at the file." She shook her head. "But I can't remember looking at it. I've asked Constance and she tells me that she reached my room and reclaimed the file before I'd had a chance to read it."

Imogen made eye contact with Miss Cackle. "If that's the case, why is it that I can see pages of that file as clear as day?"

Amelia frowned. "Are you making an accusation against Constance?"

Imogen threw herself back in the chair and pushed her hands through her hair.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted. "But something happened to me and I need to get to the bottom of it. I can't go on with this feeling in my head that someone has been playing about with my memories."

Amelia pulled a handkerchief from her cardigan pocket and began carefully cleaning the lenses of her glasses. "Have you spoken to anyone else about this?"

Imogen shook her head. "No one outside the school, only Davina."

"Hmm," Amelia rubbed hard at an invisible mark on one of the lenses. "Do you want me to have a word with Constance?"

Imogen pulled a face. "I don't want it to sound as though I'm telling tales."

"If Constance has cast some sort of memory erase spell then I think it's very important that we get to the bottom of it," Amelia told Imogen firmly. "I won't have that sort of behaviour from members of my staff."

Imogen looked at Amelia and the surprise she felt at Amelia's words must have been obvious on her face.

"No one is above the law Imogen."

"Well no, obviously not but…"

"You didn't think I'd take Constance to task?"

Imogen shrugged her shoulder apologetically. "Not really."

Amelia smiled. "Oh I know it can sometimes look as though Constance does whatever she wants, I can assure you however that I am very much in charge of this school. There are a few things that Constance and I need to discuss; I look forward to hearing her explanation."

Imogen sat back in her seat and saw the determined expression on Miss Cackle's face. She made an immediate mental note to herself never to get on the wrong side of Amelia Cackle.

"Thank you," Imogen told her gratefully. "I know that you must have a lot on your plate at the moment."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "That's something of an understatement," she admitted. "I get the feeling that we're going to be hearing about the events of parents evening for a great many weeks to come."

Imogen's head dropped. "I'm truly sorry that I ever came up with the idea," she confessed.

Amelia smiled at her. "It's hardly your fault Imogen," she tried to reassure her colleague. "I don't imagine parents evenings at Haversham High were anything like the events that took place here last week."

"You can say that again," Imogen responded ruefully.

* * *

Mildred was beginning to think that school was the loneliest place in the world when the other students were missing. She'd been in her room for the past hour with nothing to do but sit on her bed and wait for the others to return. She glanced around the room and, as her eyes caught sight of Winky, Blinky and Nod, she smiled.

Every time she left Cackle's for any period of time she always feared that HB would come into her room and take her bats away, and so she was always pleasantly surprised to see them there when she opened the door. She wasn't sure why it was that HB seemed to tolerate bats. She seemed to have an almost fanatical hatred of anything that she didn't deem essential to a witch's education and Mildred couldn't quite figure why bats were given special dispensation; not that she was ever going to question HB's judgement of course.

"Mildred!"

Mildred snapped out of her thoughts and leapt to her feet as she recognised the voice of her best friend.

Sure enough, Maud was standing in the doorway, with a smile upon her face.

"Maud." The two girls embraced. "When did you get back?" Mildred wanted to know.

"Just a couple of minutes ago. I thought I was the only one who was going to be here early," Maud told her friend. "How was half-term?"

Mildred shrugged her shoulders. "A little quiet."

Maud winced. "How were your parents?"

Mildred shrugged her shoulders again. "They've not really said much about it," she admitted. "I think they're still trying to take it all in. I mean it's not as though magic is something that they really understand. They still find it amazing when a street magician makes a coin appear from behind your ear!"

Maud smiled. "Did you try and tell them that was how parents' evenings at witch schools are supposed to go?"

Mildred shook her head. "I think that even they realise that you're not supposed to nearly destroy the school when there are parents there."

Maud shivered at the thought. She knew that there was more to the situation than the explanation that Miss Cackle had sent out to the parents, but she had yet to broach the subject with her friend. She had meant to call Mildred during the break but had never quite gotten around to it, a part of her not wanting to know what had happened.

"So have you seen Miss Hardbroom yet?" she asked, trying to move the conversation along.

Mildred nodded. "I had to hand in my lines. When I spoke to her it was as though nothing had happened." She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess it was a bit much to expect anything to change."

"HB….Change?" Maud smiled. "I don't think she knows the meaning of the word."

Mildred met her friend's gaze and she too joined in the smile, both of them happy to forget the awkwardness that had briefly hung in the air.

Mildred knew that she owed her friend a full explanation concerning the events of parents' evening. She knew that none of her friends would be able to remember a thing and that they would all feel a little uncomfortable about it. She wanted to be able to tell them exactly what had happened but she just wasn't sure that she was ready to talk about the entity and the havoc it had so nearly wreaked.

* * *

Imogen undid the latch on the staff room window and pushed it open, leaning out to take in the sight of the pupils returning to the school. There was always something magical about the way that they swirled and ghosted in on their broomsticks.

Imogen winced as two of the first years avoided colliding with each other by the narrowest of margins. It was she amended, magical to watch the older students as they gracefully guided their brooms into land; at this stage in the term the first years were still flying their brooms with their tongues stuck out of the side of their mouths in a state of intense concentration.

She smiled and waved as Fenny and Gris spotted her and called out a greeting. Despite herself, she found herself wondering if Constance ever received such a warm welcome from the pupils.

"Ppsssst."

Imogen turned her head at the noise and saw a hand beckoning her towards the stationary cupboard. She sighed, wondering just when Davina Bat had snuck back into the school.

"What is it Davina?"

The door to the cupboard opened wider and Davina stuck her head around the gap, her hair spilling untidily around her shoulders.

"How did you know it was me?"

Imogen rolled her eyes but resolved not to be dragged into that particular conversation.

"What can I do for you Davina?" she asked patiently.

The chanting teacher looked nervously around and then beckoned Imogen over again.

"I'm not hiding in a cupboard with you," Imogen warned. "If you've got something to say to me, you have to come right out and say it."

Davina twitched nervously and glanced around before finally venturing forth from the security of the cupboard. She scurried across the room and grabbed hold of Imogen's arm, pulling her away from the window. She then reached out and slammed the window shut, before pulling the curtains across.

"You haven't spoken to Miss Cackle about Constance, have you?" she asked nervously.

Imogen nodded. "Just come from speaking to her as a matter of fact."

"Oh no." Davina let go of Imogen's arm and began pacing back and forth, nervously chewing the nails on her right hand.

"What is it Davina?"

"I heard from my friend Beatrice." She stopped pacing to glance in Imogen's direction. "You remember Beatrice, don't you?"

"Yes, yes," Imogen replied impatiently. "Your friend from the WTC. What about her?"

Davina glanced around the room again, checking that they really were on their own. Satisfied with her check, she grabbed hold of Imogen's arm and pulled the younger woman down to her height.

"She's been investigated."

Imogen pulled her arm free and straightened up. "Investigated by whom?"

"The Witches Guild," Davina whispered. "They'd been tipped off that someone had been removing files from the…." she clicked her fingers impatiently, trying to think of the right word. "…Whatever you call the place where files live."

Imogen rolled her eyes, understanding finally why it always proved impossible to find anything that Davina claimed to have filed.

"Constance returned the file," Imogen assured Davina, but Davina shook her head.

"It's not there." She resumed her pacing. "Beatrice cracked under the questioning and revealed all." Davina paused and covered her face with her hands. "Oh the shame and embarrassment of it all," she wailed. "Flashing the Guild inspectors."

Imogen's eyes opened wider. "She actually revealed all to the inspectors! And there was me thinking all this time that that was just an expression."

Davina waved her hands in front of her face as though trying to dislodge a particularly nasty image from her mind.

"After being cautioned by the inspectors she confessed that she'd sent the file here."

"What?" Imogen grabbed hold of Davina's arms and forced the elderly witch to stand still. "What are the Guild likely to do?"

Davina twittered, unable to articulate her thoughts.

"Will they be able to find out it was us?" Imogen wanted to know.

"They're relentless," Davina found her voice. "They'll check everything…If they send people, then they'll look into everything."

Imogen tried to remain calm. "We had an inspection from the Guild before," she pointed out. "And we survived that."

"Just," Davina squeaked, remembering Mistress Broomhead's professed hatred of bats. She grabbed hold of Imogen's arm. "This would be far worse," she tried to explain. "They'll investigate everything. If they think that there is something amiss here, then they won't stop until they've discovered what it is."

Imogen was struck by a thought. "Maybe it won't be such a bad thing," she mused, oblivious to the shaking head of Davina. "Maybe this is just the thing to make Constance confess."

Davina shook her head. "This won't be a good thing," she warned. "This won't be a good thing at all."

* * *

Mildred and Maud stood at Mildred's door, waiting to see their friends as they returned. Maud felt her friend take a pace back and turned to see what it was that had unsettled her. She sighed as she caught sight of Ethel and Drusilla walking towards them.

"It'll be fine," she whispered to her friend. "They'll have so much to catch up on that they won't have time to be bitchy."

Mildred looked less than convinced but nevertheless retook her previous place at the door.

"Well, well, well," Ethel sneered as she drew level with Mildred's door. "Who is that I see?" She stopped and stared hard at Mildred. "It is Mildred Hubble, isn't it?"

"I don't know," Drusilla appeared to be unsure. "I mean it could be anyone."

"Oh, come on," Ethel chided her friend. "Who would deliberately make themselves look like Mildred Hubble?"

"Shut up you two," Maud snapped at the girls.

"We weren't the ones who ruined parents evening," Ethel reminded Maud. "You should see the number of letters that the Governors received as a result of Hubble Bubble's blundering." Ethel took a pace closer to Mildred. "I hope your family's got enough money to pair for the repairs that need to be carried out. I don't see why the school fund should have to pay for the damage that you caused."

"What?" Mildred stammered.

"Oh yes," Ethel was beginning to enjoy the moment. "The money to repair the hall has to come from somewhere. I don't see why the rest of us should suffer for something that was your fault."

"What's going on down there?" HB's voice boomed down the corridor and the four girls all jumped, not having heard her approach. "Less dawdling and more action," she barked at them. "I want to see that everything is back where it belongs in your wardrobes, and that all cats are attended to before anyone is to go down for dinner…" She paused to make sure that her words had sunk in. "Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes Miss," a chorus of voices replied. Casting a final black look in Mildred's direction, Ethel and Drusilla continued on their way.

Mildred turned to look at Maud. "It's going to be like this all term," she sighed.

"I'm sure that they'll soon forget about it," Maud tried to reassure her friend.

"But isn't that part of the point?" Mildred continued. "No-one can really remember what they did and I just know that they're going to blame me for it."

"HB knows what happened," Maud reminded her. "I'm sure that she won't stand for any nonsense."

Mildred shrugged her shoulders. "I can't see HB as my white knight in shining armour somehow."

"Mildred, Maud." Miss Hardbroom's voice broke across their conversation, and the two girls turned around guiltily, hoping that they hadn't been overheard. "Are you somehow excluded from the school rules?" she asked them pointedly. "Have you perhaps been granted some special dispensation that I haven't been informed about?"

"No Miss," the two girls chorused and looked down at their feet.

"Then may I suggest that you attend to your cats and sort out your belongings before wasting your time in idle prattling."

Mildred looked up as HB came to a halt in front of them. "Sorry Miss," she apologised.

"We did arrive early Miss Hardbroom," Maud thought she should try to explain.

"Well that's very keen of you Maud Moonshine," Miss Hardbroom replied sarcastically.

"My parents were off on a conference and Mildred had to come and have a meeting with Miss Cackle," Maud continued.

"Really!"

Mildred's heart sank as she heard the questioning tone in Miss Hardbroom's voice and felt the potion teacher's eyes fix themselves upon her.

"I trust that your meeting with Miss Cackle was illuminating Mildred?"

"Yes Miss." Mildred wished that a hole in the ground would open up and swallow her. She could feel HB's eyes boring into her, silently demanding to know what she had said to Miss Cackle. After a few moments, HB turned her attention back to Maud.

"Maud, I think perhaps you should return to your room and make sure that everything is as it should be."

"Yes Miss," Maud replied quietly and, with a quick reassuring look towards her friend, scurried off down the now empty corridor.

"I think perhaps you and I should have a quiet word," HB told Mildred firmly and indicated that Mildred should step back into her room.

Constance closed the door to Mildred's room and faced the young girl, taking in the way that Mildred was staring down at her feet, a worried expression on her face.

Despite herself, she sighed.

"Do you always assume that every time I ask to speak with you, you must be in trouble?"

"Miss?" Mildred questioned, not sure whether she should answer the question or not.

Constance let out a short breath of exasperation. "I wanted to have a word with you about parents evening," she began, trying to keep her voice calm. "I don't want you to go around the place telling everyone what you saw." She watched as Mildred raised her head. "I don't mean that you should lie to them; I just don't want people to know…." she broke off, not certain exactly how to phrase the next sentence.

"I wasn't going to say anything Miss Hardbroom," Mildred replied earnestly.

"That's good," Constance replied, slightly surprised by the tone in Mildred's voice. "I think that the less people know about magical entities and the things they can do, the better."

"Yes Miss," Mildred agreed.

"I don't want there to be an endless procession of inquisitive young witches trying to get their hands on spells that they don't have the experience to handle."

"No Miss."

"Good." Constance looked at Mildred and sensed that there was something else that the young girl wanted to say. "Come on Mildred, out with it," she sighed.

Mildred looked up and swallowed nervously. "It **has** gone now, hasn't it?"

"Yes Mildred. It's gone."

"And you are…"

"Perfectly," Constance answered quickly, not wanting to get involved in a conversation about her health with a pupil; it was bad enough with Amelia clucking around like an old mother hen without one of the pupils joining in.

"Good," came the quiet reply from Mildred. "I was scared when…"

"Enough Mildred," Constance cut across Mildred's sentence. "The entity has gone, the event has passed. There is nothing to be gained by dwelling on what you think you may or may not have seen during that evening."

"Sorry Miss," Mildred apologised.

"Make sure that you put everything away and then get down to the courtyard to join the others," Constance changed the subject swiftly and turned on her heel, exiting the room before Mildred could say anything further.

Mildred stood there as HB swept out of the room. Her mind was still trying to process what HB had said. She'd never known her potions teacher hide from anything but it struck Mildred that HB seemed pretty keen on keeping the details of what the entity did quiet. A gentle mew from Tabby caused the thought to drop from her mind and she turned and collected the grey tabby cat in her arms. She had spent her first few nights at home sitting up in bed, wrapped in the bedclothes and waiting for the morning to come. Without Tabby's reassuring company, she wasn't sure that she would have managed to get any sleep. She buried her face in his warm fur and was rewarded with a loud purr from him in return.

* * *

Constance wasn't unaccustomed to entering Miss Cackle's office and finding the Headmistress with a worried expression on her face and a large slice of cheesecake sitting on the table in front of her. Constance had never understood the need that some people had for what they termed 'comfort food'. Food was eaten because it was essential to the well being of the body. She had seen a self-styled 'Wicked Wizard Chef' advertised in Miss Bat's Cauldron Monthly, but she had never understood the appeal of a pre-pubescent wizard 'cooking up a storm in the kitchen'. Kitchens, to her way of thinking were most definitely not the place for storms. She had told Miss Bat so and had then had to spend the rest of the afternoon teaching the 1st year chanting class because Davina had fled to the stationary cupboard and refused to leave.

Constance shook the thought out of her head and prepared to listen to the latest woe of Amelia's.

Amelia raised her head from contemplating her, as yet untouched, slice of cherry cheesecake. She sighed heavily and indicated that Constance should take a seat.

As her deputy sat down, she rose to her feet and began pacing back and forth in front of the window.

"We've received a letter from the Witches Guild."

Constance raised an eyebrow at the news. It wasn't uncommon for the Guild to send out letters from time to time. Usually they involved useful information about where to obtain better broomstick insurance and cat healthcare programmes.

From the way that Amelia was continuing to pace, Constance reasoned that this time they had sent out something quite different.

"What is it Headmistress?" she finally asked, acutely aware that the 2nd years would be causing mayhem in the courtyard if she wasn't out there within 10 minutes.

Amelia gestured towards the desk. "Take a look for yourself."

Constance pursed her lips. Amelia wasn't exactly renowned for her neatness, she was well aware that it could take her a while to locate anything from amid the pile of paper that flowed across the top of the table. Constance scanned the visible surface area and finally caught sight of the logo of the Witches Guild poking out from beneath the cheesecake plate. Being careful to avoid coming into contact with the aforementioned cake, Constance slid the piece of paper out from beneath the plate and shook the crumbs off it before bringing it closer.

Amelia stopped her pacing and watched her deputy closely, waiting to read the emotions on her face. She watched as Constance's eyes narrowed; that in itself was a major reaction as far as Constance was concerned. Finally, the letter was lowered.

"This is preposterous," she announced.

"I get the feeling that they are deadly serious about it," Amelia replied.

"But to send an inspector to the school…" Constance protested.

"Two inspectors," Amelia corrected. "They are proposing sending two inspectors."

Constance opened her mouth to complain further, but she found that she was somewhat at a loss for words. She instead returned her attention to the letter, seeking out a particular detail. "It has come to our attention that there have been some unexplained magical occurrences." Constance raised her head and met Miss Cackle's gaze.

"Someone didn't waste any time in reporting us," Amelia voiced the thought.

"But to send inspectors?"

Amelia frowned. "I know. I get the feeling that they're fishing for something more."

"Well I don't know what they think they'll find," Constance tried to dismiss the worries that Amelia was trying to raise.

Amelia took a seat and shuffled some of the papers that were on her desk, trying to appear casual. "I think you and I need to have a little talk about what happened during parents evening."

Constance clicked her tongue against her teeth. "There is nothing to tell you."

Amelia looked at Constance over the top of her glasses. "Now we both know that that's not true." She looked and saw the flash of uncertainty that crossed her deputy's face. "With inspectors on the way, it's vitally important that I know everything that happened."

"I submitted a report to you and, as far as I'm concerned, that covered all the salient points," Constance told her firmly.

Amelia looked guiltily down at the mess of papers on her desk. She was certain that Constance's report was amid the mound of hastily read mail but she wasn't sure that she'd be able to put her hand on it any time soon.

Constance sighed, frustrated that once again, Amelia had treated a carefully written report as though it were nothing more than a covering for the bottom of a litter tray.

"Due to Mildred Hubble's ill-advised dabbling into magic that she was too inexperienced to handle, a magical entity was summoned and I had to take necessary steps to ensure that no-one in the hall came to any harm. Mildred remembered the spell and we were able to banish the entity." Constance held her hands out to the side. "That is all there is to it."

Amelia looked up at her deputy, certain that there was much more that was being kept from her. Mildred had been equally as cagey when it came to explaining what had happened after everyone was frozen. She resolved to get to the bottom of it eventually, but first there were other matters to attend to.

"I take it that you've done something about the Forbidden Volumes?"

Constance sniffed. "I have placed a much stronger spell over that particular room. I'd like to see any of the pupils try and get in there now."

Amelia chose her next words carefully. "I was rather hoping to hear that you had removed the volumes from the school."

"I haven't had the opportunity," Constance told her.

Amelia frowned. "But this past week…"

"I have been engaged in some research work," Constance finished the sentence smoothly.

Amelia's frown deepened. "I thought I told you to take the week off."

Constance raised an eyebrow. "I did. There were no lessons."

Amelia sighed inwardly. Constance had never really come to terms with the concept of relaxing. She'd tried enforcing rest on Constance during the half-term stay at Rowan Webb's but that had backfired on her. Two days of rest had seen Constance come back to the school and work like a witch-possessed, making up for the hours that she had spent relaxing. Amelia realised that it was pointless to push the issue further.

"There is one other matter that you and I need to discuss."

"Oh?"

The 'oh' was enough to cause Amelia to lose heart. She'd told Imogen that no one was outside of the rules but Amelia had to admit to herself that she did find it hard to confront her deputy.

"Miss Drill came to see me earlier." Amelia had been hoping that a look of guilt or recognition would reveal itself on Constance's face, but there was nothing. She was determined to make this as hard as possible. Amelia searched around for the best way to phrase the next sentence. "Imogen mentioned that she hadn't been exactly honest about her dealings with that file of yours from the WTC."

Constance let out a heavy sigh. "I thought we'd dealt with that sorry business last term."

Amelia looked at Constance over the top of her glasses. "As did I but Imogen has raised a matter than means that I shall have to look into it again."

Constance sighed heavily again. "I suppose she told you all about her 'dream' of looking at my file."

"It didn't sound like a dream to me Constance," Amelia warned her deputy. "It sounded very much like someone who was subjected to a memory erase spell."

Constance rose to her feet. "Are you accusing me of casting a spell on Miss Drill without her knowledge?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything," Amelia hurriedly replied, trying to keep the conversation under control. "I just want to know if anything happened that I should know about."

Constance folded her arms tightly across her chest. "I am not in the habit of casting spells over non-magical members of the school against their will and I object to the suggestion that I did so."

"I'm sorry Constance," Amelia was apologetic. "But Imogen was so certain that something had happened. I had to check it out."

"Yes," Constance said flatly. "Of course you did."

"With inspectors on the way, we can't afford any…" Amelia searched around for the right word.

"Skeletons in the closet?" Constance suggested dryly.

Amelia huffed. "For want of a better word, yes. Those inspectors are going to be into everything." Amelia scanned the desktop again and finally caught sight of a file bearing Constance's precise handwriting. She pulled it free, only to watch as a pile of letters next to it cascaded to the floor. "The inspectors are going to be very interested in this," she warned Constance.

Constance narrowed her eyes. "Are you implying that I may have left a few details out?"

"No no," Amelia was quick to explain. "But I'm sure you understand just how thorough an investigation from the Guild can be."

"I have nothing to hide."

Amelia looked at her colleague over the top of her glasses, not sure that she should try and push the matter further at this stage. "Well I suppose we'd better break the news to the girls," she suggested.

Constance pursed her lips. "I somehow think that breaking the news to Davina should take precedence. Heaven alone knows how long it's going to take us to get her out of the stationary cupboard once she hears the news."

Amelia's heart sank as she realised that Constance had a point; breaking things like this to Davina were never straightforward.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Apologies for the delay; the world is doing the busy thing again. Hope to have the next part up within a few days._**

* * *

The courtyard was buzzing with the chattering of girls. With the Great Hall out of commission, they'd all been told to gather outside and now speculation was rife as to what was going to happen. The girls were huddled together in small groups, all whispering about what had happened during parents' evening and the spell that had set the whole chain of events in progress.

Mildred sensed an immediate drop in the level of chatter as she headed outside to join her friends. She imagined that she could feel the eyes of the whole school upon her as she made her way across the courtyard, looking for Maud and the others.

"Mildred."

Mildred looked up thankfully as she heard Maud's voice call out. She made her way quickly to her friend's side, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone else.

"What did HB want?"

Mildred shrugged her shoulders dismissively. "Nothing much. Just telling me to keep out of trouble this term." She switched her attention to the other girls in the group as quickly as she could. "Enid, Jadu, Ruby. It's good to see you."

She was a little surprised by the slightly less than enthusiastic response from her friends.

"Hi Millie," Enid replied a little flatly and Jadu and Ruby's replies were equally as muted. Mildred tried to ignore the fact and move on.

"So, how was half term?"

Enid pulled a face. "My brother ratted on me over the whole turning him into a toad incident and so I was grounded for the week. I'd been hoping to catch up with some old friends from day witch school but no chance."

"I'm sorry," Mildred told her sincerely. "Were your parents really mad about it?"

"Me turning my brother into a toad?" Enid questioned. "Well they weren't exactly overjoyed."

Mildred decided that it was safer to let the topic drop and so turned her attention to the others. "And you Ruby, Jadu?"

Jadu shrugged her shoulders. "My mum doesn't want to talk to me about parents' evening, but I did hear her talking to dad, saying that she thinks I should move to Pentangles."

"What?" Enid was the first to voice her outrage. "Why on earth would she want you to do that?"

Jadu looked apologetically at Mildred. "She thinks that I'm coming under a bad influence here. She thinks that the school isn't a healthy place for a young witch."

"But she wouldn't move you at this stage, surely?" Maud questioned. "You'd have to start all over again with broomstick flying; having to learn to fly with an owl rather than a cat. And then there's the chanting; I'm sure that Pentangles do some strange modern stuff."

Jadu shrugged her shoulders. "Mum seems set on me moving, but I think that my dad's going to try and persuade her that she shouldn't. I know that they've written to Miss Cackle about parents' evening." Jadu looked at Mildred again. "I know this isn't your fault Millie, but I really wish that we hadn't done anything that night."

"You're not the only one," Ruby spoke up. "I've been trying to explain to my father why I seemed a little on edge throughout the evening. I think he's beginning to suspect that there was something funny going on."

"I hope that he's not talking about moving you," Jadu told her friend firmly. "Although if I have to go, it would be good knowing that there was someone else I knew going with me."

Mildred looked glumly round at the rest of the school and wondered just how many parents had sat their daughters down and had serious talks with them concerning their stay at Cackles. She didn't want to be the reason that the school closed down. She let out a heavy sigh. "I'm really sorry for everything," she apologised. "Perhaps it would be better if I were the one to leave."

"No Millie," Maud immediately replied. "It wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" Mildred countered. "I was the one who cast the spell."

"And we were the ones that helped you," Maud reminded her.

"It was a team effort," Ruby agreed.

"We could have backed out if we wanted but none of us did," Jadu added.

Only Enid remained silent, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Mildred.

"Whatever happens, we'll stick together," Maud reassured her friend. "We'll show everyone that what we did was done with the best of intentions."

Mildred was not completely convinced by the argument but was more than a little reassured by the fact that her friends were prepared to stick by her.

Enid's attention was drawn to the staff room as she spotted HB walk up to the window and draw the curtains. She nudged Maud. "I wonder what's going on in there?"

Maud followed her friend's gaze. "Must be pretty important if they're trying to shut us out of it."

"I bet it's some kind of fallout from parents' evening. Everyone I've spoken to reckons that their parents have written to the school or the Witches' Guild to complain." Enid looked down at her hands. "I know my parents have said something."

Maud grimaced. "I bet Mr Hallow will insist on doing something."

"Do you think we should have a word with Ethel, just to see how the land lies?"

Maud shook her head. "I can't imagine that Ethel will want to say anything to us."

Enid shrugged her shoulders. "Anything's better than just standing here and waiting for something to happen," she argued. She turned on her heel and headed off across the courtyard. Maud watched her go. Talking to Ethel and Drusilla about anything was never an easy task, and certainly something that wasn't wise to do on your own. She weighed up the situation in her mind and then hastily set off after her friend.

* * *

"Inspectors…here!" Davina glanced nervously around the staff room as though believing they might jump out of the shadows at her.

"No…Not yet Miss Bat," Amelia tried to calm the chanting teacher. "They don't arrive until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Imogen questioned. "They certainly didn't waste any time."

"Hmm," Miss Cackle mused. "That thought struck me as well."

"You think they're up to something?"

Constance sighed heavily. "This is the Witches' Guild we are talking about Imogen, not some second years with designs on mayhem."

Imogen bit back the retort that sprang to her lips and folded her arms. "What will they be looking for exactly?" she wanted to know.

Amelia shrugged her shoulders. "They shouldn't be bothering you Imogen; the matters they investigate tend to be magical matters."

"I doubt that anything you do will register on their radar," Constance added dryly. "They probably won't even notice that you're here."

Imogen was torn between being angry with Constance at the complete dismissal of her subject and secret relief at the thought that she would escape any sort of formal investigation.

"Inspectors," Davina muttered again. "Did the letter indicate why they were being sent?"

Amelia consulted the letter again. "Unexplained magic."

"Well that should count you out as a potential subject for investigation as well Davina," Constance remarked acidly. "The last magical act you managed to perform was getting a vaguely recognisable tune out of the school organ."

"It's not easy," Davina sniffled. "That machine is temperamental."

"Yes. It seems to keep making the unreasonable demand that you press the keys in the right order before it deigns to play a tune."

Davina spun to face Constance and struggled to find something to say by way of a response. Constance merely raised an eyebrow at the, obviously frustrated, chanting teacher. "Isn't there somewhere you should be flouncing off to about now?"

Davina stamped her foot on the floor and headed off across the room; Amelia shot an angry look at Constance before setting out after the retreating witch.

"Davina!" Amelia called out. "Please Davina. They're due here tomorrow."

Imogen glared at Constance. "I don't know why you always have to be so cruel."

Constance raised an eyebrow. "Cruel?" she questioned pointedly.

Imogen shifted uneasily in her seat. There were times when she felt at a distinct disadvantage when trying to argue with Constance. It was one thing pitting your wits against someone of equal intellect; it was another thing entirely when that someone had a seemingly limitless amount of magic at their disposal. Imogen cleared her throat and tried to keep the nervousness she felt out of her voice. "You always pick on Davina."

"Pick on her?" There was amusement in Constance's tone. "You make me sound like the school bully."

"Well in some ways you are," Imogen retorted before she realised what she was saying.

Constance raised a hand to brush at a speck of dirt on her sleeve and Imogen flinched. She closed her eyes and cursed inwardly. She knew that Constance had done that deliberately, testing to see whether or not she was scared that magic would be bought into play.

"So because I refuse to pander to the whims of a deluded old woman, you choose to call me a bully?"

Imogen found Constance's even tone unsettling. She had been expecting the potions teacher to go off the deep end.

"It's the way that you tell her," Imogen argued. "You could have a little more patience."

Constance sighed. "When you've been here a few more years Miss Drill, I'm sure you will tire of standing at that cupboard door and pleading with her to come out. **You** may be willing to stand there for hours on end with bowls of fruit salad, or warming bowls of cauldron stew, but some of us are way beyond that now."

"You do know it's your fault that the Guild is sending inspectors," Imogen told Constance, with a slight smile on her face.

"My fault?" Constance queried.

"It appears that your file has disappeared from the WTC," Imogen told her. "That apparently was one of the things that alerted the Guild. Would you know anything about that? You told me that you'd returned it."

Constance glared at Imogen, not liking the tone in her colleague's voice. "I did return it," she told Imogen coldly.

"So why can't the Guild find it? I can't imagine that you, of all people, would misfile anything."

"And that's why you're saying that this inspection is my fault?" Constance demanded to know.

Imogen nodded and Constance narrowed her eyes. "Oh so it's my fault that you and Davina the Wonder Bat decided to try and play detectives and take a look at my personal, private files. How stupid of me not to realise that sooner!" she snapped.

The two of them were standing toe to toe, Imogen wishing, not for the first time that she was a little taller. It was hard to outstare someone when your eye line only reached the chin of the person you were squaring up to!

"Would one of you go and see Mrs Tapioca and see if she can't rustle up a bowl of cauldron stew?" Amelia asked from her place at the stationary cupboard door, breaking the tension that had been mounting between the two. "I have a feeling that this may take some time."

Constance let out a breath and folded her arms, making it clear that she wasn't going to be going anywhere. Imogen glared at her before telling Amelia that she'd get straight onto it.

* * *

Enid walked up behind Ethel and tapped her firmly on the shoulder. "I'd like a word."

Ethel turned her head, a sneer forming on her face as she heard Enid's voice. "What on Earth makes you think that I have anything to say to you Enid Lampshade?"

Enid ignored the insult as best as she could. "I want to know what your father's going to do about all the letters that the school has received," she told Ethel firmly, trying to ignore the black looks that she was getting from both Ethel and Drusilla.

"I don't see that that's any of your business," Ethel retorted. "What my father does is only going to be for the good of the school."

"It's not going to be good for you if he decides to try and change things around here."

"How so?"

Enid stared down at her nails. "What's to guarantee that any changes will benefit you? What's to say that the inspectors will find your work as acceptable as HB does? What's to say that they'll not take an immediate dislike to you the way that the rest of the school has?" Enid raised her head and grinned at Ethel. "It's worth thinking about. Not all change is good."

Drusilla watched the exchange and waited for Ethel to retaliate with some pithy putdown. She was more than a little surprised when her friend remained silent.

"I'm sure my father will do what's best," she finally retorted. She tilted her head to one side for a moment. "I heard that you turned your brother into a toad…How's that working out?"

Maud arrived on the scene at just the right moment and quickly grabbed hold of Enid's arm and pulled her away from Ethel.

"Ignore her," she implored her friend. "She's only trying to wind you up."

"It's good to see that you've finally mastered simple transfrogrification," Ethel told her mockingly.

"Shut up," Enid snapped, letting her temper get the better of her.

"I'm guessing you've already thanked Mildred for making the entire toad situation possible?"

Enid glared at Ethel, wishing that her words weren't striking home quite so firmly.

She let Maud drag her away before she said something she'd only regret later.

"Girls, girls." All heads in the courtyard turned as Miss Hardbroom clapped her hands together and stepped out onto the front step of the main entrance. Miss Cackle was at her shoulder and Imogen flanked her on the other side.

"If you would all form up, Miss Cackle has an announcement to make."

There was a hushed whispering from amongst the girls as they began to follow Miss Hardbroom's orders.

"I'm sure you are all capable of moving without the chatter," she told them firmly and immediately the whispers died away, leaving only the sound of boots shuffling on stone.

Satisfied that she had the girls in some semblance of order, Constance stepped aside and let Miss Cackle take centre stage.

"I have received a letter from the Witches' Guild and I feel that it's only right and proper that I tell you all about it," Amelia announced.

There was an outbreak of murmuring at this point.

"The Guild have decided to send two investigators to the school."

The murmuring quickly swelled into a buzz of excited chatter.

"Quiet girls," Constance instructed with her usual commanding air and the noise immediately ceased.

"Now I don't want any of you to worry about the visit. I'm sure that it's just a formality. I'd just like to remind you all to be on your best behaviour," Amelia tried to make her voice light, disguising the very real fear she felt about the visit. "They are just here to make sure that nothing is out of place and that everything is as it should be."

Miss Cackle cast her eyes over the school and spotted the raised hand of Griselda Blackwood. "Yes Griselda?"

"Has this visit got anything to do with the letters that some of our parents have sent to the Guild?"

Miss Cackle cleared her throat. "We haven't had a magical audit for at least ten years, so I'd say that we were well overdue one. I can't comment on whether any of the letters your parents sent contributed in any way to the Guilds decision."

Enid leaned over and whispered to Maud. "I heard that Griselda's father declared his love for Miss Cackle during the evening," She smirked. "I'm not surprised he's more than a little anxious to find out what came over him."

"That's more than enough chatter girls," Miss Hardbroom warned. "If you have something to contribute to the conversation then I suggest you raise your hand and wait to be acknowledged."

Miss Cackle scanned the crowd of girls in front of her and her gaze fell upon Enid. "Yes Enid?"

"There's more to this than a magical audit, isn't there?" Enid pushed. "The timing of this means that it has to have something to do with the events of parents' evening."

Enid watched the glances that passed between HB and Miss Cackle. That was enough to tell her that her guess was correct. The events of the past week were deemed important enough for the Guild to investigate.

Miss Hardbroom was quick however to try and correct the situation. "Fanciful speculation on your part Enid Nightshade will not help the situation. We're being subjected to a magical audit that is all. There is nothing dramatic or sinister about the situation. The sooner that you realise that, the sooner that you can stop letting your rather lurid imagination run away with you."

Ethel nudged Drusilla in the ribs. "This could finally be our chance to get rid of Mildred Hubble," she whispered to her friend.

Drusilla wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "You heard what HB just said; this is only a magical audit."

Ethel rolled her eyes. "Do you really believe everything that people tell you? Inspectors from the Guild are going to be here. They're going to want to know what happened and I think it's our responsibility to make sure that they hear about every detail."

Drusilla looked at her friend and saw the calculating smile that was spreading across her face. "You're going to grass on Mildred?"

Ethel heard the faint tone of disapproval in her friend's voice. "She nearly destroyed the school Dru, heaven alone knows what else she may do in future if we don't find some way to stop her," Ethel tried her best to persuade Drusilla. "Think of it more as safeguarding the future of the Academy. I for one don't want to see it close down because of the actions of Mildred Hubble and her friends."

Drusilla mulled the idea over for a few seconds. "You have a point," she finally conceded. "But from what I've seen, I don't think Mildred's exactly top of everyone's Christmas Card list at the moment. Even Enid and the others are giving her something of a wide berth."

"Really?" Ethel's eyes lit up at the news. "Then this could make things even easier than I thought."

* * *

With the Great Hall in its current state, Miss Cackle had ordered that meals be taken in form rooms. Miss Hardbroom's had been the loudest voice of protest, arguing that teaching potion making to the present 2nd year was difficult enough without giving the pupils the opportunity to add liver and onions to the contents of their cauldrons, but Miss Cackle had been firm. She wanted the girls to eat together, not to be isolated in their own rooms. Constance had rolled her eyes and warned that she wouldn't be held responsible for the things that were going to come out of the potions lab for the next few days.

"What do you think of the news?" Jadu leant forward in her seat, peering past the mini cauldron in front of her, eager to hear what her friends had to say.

Maud shivered. "I don't like the idea of anyone being here, spying on us."

Enid sighed, remembering their previous encounter with the Witches' Guild "You don't think they're sending Mistress Broomhead back here again, do you?"

Mildred's eyes widened in fear. "Broomhead gave this school a glowing report," she protested. "There's no way that they'd send her back here. They'd want someone who hadn't been here before."

Jadu shook her head. "It's not that sort of an inspection," she explained. "I overheard Miss Drill talking to Mrs Tapioca about it. It's got something to do with the way that magic has been used within the school."

Maud frowned. "But Miss Cackle said that it was some sort of magical audit."

"That's just so that we don't worry," Jadu explained. "Despite what HB and Cackle said, this has got everything to do with what happened during parents' evening." She grinned and beckoned the girls in closer. "Apparently there's been the wrong sort of magic in the air." She looked around at the others. "We all know what that means."

Mildred groaned. "It's about that spell, isn't it?"

Jadu nodded. "Looks that way. I bet HB's going to be in hot water for storing those books within the school."

"It wasn't HB's fault though," Mildred blurted out.

Enid sat back in her chair and looked carefully at her friend. "What have you done with the real Mildred Hubble?" she asked flatly. "I mean, it's not like you to stick up for HB."

Mildred pulled a face. "This is different though," she protested.

"Is it?" Enid questioned. "If the Witches' Guild are looking for someone to blame for…well, whatever it was that happened on parents evening, I'd much rather that they looked to HB than us."

"When you put it like that," Maud added. "I have to agree with you."

Mildred remained silent, not sharing the views of her friends. "It wasn't HB's fault," she finally spoke up.

Enid shook he head. "I swear there are times when I don't understand you Mildred Hubble. I would have thought that you of all people would be pleased to see HB in hot water for a change."

Mildred shook her head and pushed her chair back from the table. "Not this time," she told her friend coldly. "HB's the reason that we're all still here today. I don't think she should be punished for that. If you want someone to blame for the whole sorry event, then why don't you just come on out and say what you're really thinking?" She looked round at the rest of the pupils in the room. "You all think that it's my fault, don't you?"

"Mildred!" Maud called after her friend, but Mildred fled from the room, wanting to get away before the tears began to fall.

Maud glared at Enid before rising from her own place at the table and heading for the door.

She followed her friend out into the courtyard and managed to catch up with Mildred as she was struggling with the heavy wooden door at Walkers Gate.

"You can't go out now," she reminded her friend as she came to a halt beside her. "HB will come down on you like a ton of bricks."

Mildred shrugged her shoulders and continued fighting with the rusty lock. "Why should I care? It's not as though anyone wants me around at the moment."

"Everyone's just a little on edge," Maud tried to reassure her.

Mildred let her hand drop from the door handle and she turned around. "It's more than that," she insisted, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "Even you've been looking at me as though you expect something nasty to happen at any minute."

Maud wanted to tell Mildred that she was mistaken that she'd never once thought that anything more was going to happen, but the reality was that she was still a little scared. She smiled a watery smile. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "It's just that none of us know what happened. Only you and HB know. You've not said anything and no-one's foolish enough to ask HB." She paused and sought out Mildred's gaze. "I'm sorry if I've been a little distant; it's just odd not knowing what's been going on."

Mildred regarded her friend for a few seconds before forcing a smile to her own face.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "I wanted to call you during half-term and tell you everything…" she tailed off and looked down at her feet. "It's just that I don't think I'm ready to go through it all again."

"Well then just start at the beginning," Maud told her, slipping her arm through her friend's and setting off across the courtyard. "You can stop whenever you want."

Mildred forced a watery smile onto her face and tried to think of the best place to start.

* * *

Amelia raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the midday sun. High up in the sky, two figures were circling, waiting for the wind to drop so that they could bring their brooms into land.

She heard Constance shift her weight from one foot to the other and wished that her colleague would try a little harder to disguise her unease. It was important, she felt, to show a united and confident front to the two inspectors from the Guild.

The brooms dropped lower and Amelia caught her first glimpse of the two individuals who were going to decide the fate of her school. The lead broom was coming in at a graceful angle, the rider sitting in the classic pose, with her back ramrod straight.

The following rider was looking less certain, the broom weaving slightly as its rider struggled to maintain control. Amelia squinted against the glare of the sun and tried to make out more detail. A sharp intake of breath from Constance drew her attention away from the incoming witches and towards her deputy.

"What is it?" she asked, wanting to know what had rattled Constance.

"What?" Constance kept her eyes focussed on the new arrivals. "It's nothing," she added finally, realising that Amelia had noticed her reaction.

The lead witch landed gracefully in the courtyard and dismounted from her broom, dropping her holdall upon the floor. She rested her broom against it and then lifted her hat from her head.

"Welcome to Cackles." Amelia stepped forward promptly and held out a hand in greeting. The witch quickly pushed a hand through her short blond hair before turning to greet Miss Cackle.

Amelia regarded the woman closely as she shook her hand. She was a little shorter than Constance but she carried herself with a similar level of confidence. Her eyes were a distinct shade of green and they shone bright as she took the offered hand. Her mouth curled into a smile that was almost cat-like. That image was reinforced when she spoke; her voice was smooth, almost purring.

"Miss Cackle, I presume?"

"Yes, yes," Amelia cursed inwardly for not introducing herself properly. "And this is my deputy…"

"Oh there's no need to introduce me to Constance," the woman interrupted, her mouth again curling into a smile. "We're already acquainted, aren't we?"

Amelia turned to look at Constance, wanting to see what sort of reaction she had to the new arrival.

Constance's face was impassive. She nodded politely to the woman and then proceeded with the introduction. "Miss Cackle may I present Hortense Spellbinder."

"Delighted to meet you," Amelia smiled at the blond-haired woman, wanting to ask how the two witches knew each other. In fact she was about broach the subject when there was an almighty clattering from the dustbins.

"Would someone mind giving me a hand?" a faint voice asked shakily from amid the upturned bins. "I seem to have suffered a little problem with my landing."

"Oh my word." Amelia was the first off the mark, scurrying over to where she could see a pair of booted feet sticking out from behind the metal containers. "Have you broken anything?"

"I think it's only my dignity I've bruised." There was a slight Scottish lilt to the voice that floated from beneath the dustbins. Amelia reached out a hand as she saw a figure trying to disentangle themselves from the rubbish. The hand was gratefully accepted and Amelia was able to help the woman to her feet.

Her hat had been dented in the fall and she quickly pulled it from her head, attempting to wipe some of the dirt from it. Her hair was long and grey, a pure white streak running down the left hand side.

Amelia guessed that she was somewhere near Miss Bat's age but, as she admitted to herself, she was never really any good at trying to age her colleagues.

"Verna Hyssop," The older witch smiled and was about to offer a hand in greeting when she realised just what it was coated in. "Well perhaps we should wait until I've cleaned up a little before we get down to the pleasantries."

Amelia smiled in what she hoped was an encouraging manner and turned back to face the others. Constance and Hortense were both standing exactly where she had left them, one foot tapping impatiently upon the floor, neither witch making the effort to acknowledge the other. The smile faltered on Amelia's face and she took a deep breath before suggesting that the group retire inside.

* * *

"Did you see them?" Maud burst into Mildred's room, scaring Tabby who had been happily sleeping on the bed. The cat leapt from the bed and sought sanctuary beneath it, two dark eyes peering out suspiciously at the new arrivals.

"See who?" Mildred asked looking up from her potions text book, momentarily confused.

"The witches that the Guild sent," Ruby pushed her way in behind Maud and jumped onto Mildred's bed.

Mildred shook her head.

"There are two of them," Maud exclaimed excitedly. "They've just arrived."

"One of them looks dead impressive," Ruby butted in. "A sort of a blond HB, only with short hair and not quite so scary looking."

"You should see the other one though," Maud laughed. "She crashed into the bins on landing, just like you did on your first day."

Ruby shook her head and smiled. "I get the feeling she's going to make Miss Bat look organised."

Mildred placed her potions textbook down on the bed and regarded her two friends.

"Why do you think they're here?"

Ruby pulled a face. "You know why they're here. Miss Cackle told us all."

Mildred shook her head. "But as Jadu said, they're really here because of parents' evening. I want to know what they intend to do."

Maud shrugged her shoulders. "Give the school the once over, slap HB and Miss Cackle on the wrists and tell them never to let it happen again."

"Whatever that something was," Ruby muttered before turning her attention to Mildred. "I wish you'd tell us what happened."

Ruby watched as Mildred's face dropped. "I'm sorry," she apologised quickly. "It's just so frustrating to know that something happened but not to know what that something was."

"I know," Mildred admitted. "But if you'd seen that 'thing' then you wouldn't want to talk about it either."

"Did it really have the ability to copy your face?" Ruby asked. Mildred glared at Maud.

Maud looked apologetic. "I only told Ruby…and Jadu."

"Sorry Millie," Ruby told her friend. "I just want to know what happened. It sounds amazing."

Mildred shook her head. "The one thing it wasn't was amazing," She closed her eyes as an image sprang unbidden to her mind. "It nearly killed HB."

"What!" Both girls chorused, their eyes opening wide at the news.

"You never said that last night," Maud admonished her friend.

Mildred raised her eyes to meet her gaze. "It's not something I really want to think about."

"But what happened?" Ruby didn't want to let the matter drop.

Mildred shuddered. "The entity that got into the castle fed on magic…."

"And HB must have looked like an all you can eat buffet," Ruby broke into Mildred's explanation. Mildred did her best to ignore Ruby and continued on.

"HB froze everyone in the hall so that she could tackle the thing… Only it was stronger than it looked." Mildred stopped short of talking about the black ovals that replaced her teacher's eyes when the entity gained control; it wasn't something she wanted to think about. "It was touch and go as to whether she'd beat it."

Ruby let out a low whistle. "And yet when you look at HB, it's as though nothing unusual happened."

"Business as usual," Maud agreed but Mildred shook her head.

"I think something's changed," she said quietly. "I can't say exactly what, but I think something's changed."

"Tell us more about this entity," Ruby pleaded but Mildred shook her head.

"I get nightmares whenever I talk about it," she confessed.

"All the better that you get it out of your system," Ruby told her but Mildred shook her head resolutely.

"Maybe later."

"But you think that perhaps the Guild have gotten to hear about it?" Maud stated. "Perhaps they're here to check that it's really gone; once and for all."

Mildred shivered. "I hope it's gone," she admitted. "I don't think I could cope with seeing it again."

* * *

In the shadows at the back of the Great Hall, there was a small crackle of red light as a strand of energy forced its way into existence. It crackled and fizzed as it searched for suitable magic to latch onto. It faltered slightly as nothing usable came within its grasp. It knew though that it would only be a matter of time before it could return and regain its strength. There was more than one strand of itself left within the school; it just needed to link up with its compatriot and then it could start building anew. With a final crackle of defiance, it faded from view and the shadows were once again nothing more than empty blackness.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Thanks as always for the reviews. This part is slightly shorter than normal, but there is more on the horizon_**

* * *

"Come in, come in." Miss Cackle opened the door to the staff room and invited the new arrivals in, aware of the over exuberance in her own tone. "I took the liberty of arranging tea and refreshments."

"That really wasn't necessary," Hortense told her smoothly, her tone implying that she thought the gesture an indulgent one.

"Ohh lovely…" Verna barged past Hortense, her pointed elbow digging into her colleague as she headed for the food that was laid out on the table. "Are those crumpets that I can smell?"

"They certainly are." Amelia switched her attention to the older inspector, a wry smile on her face. "Do I take it that you're partial to them?"

Verna stopped short and spun round to face Amelia, a dark look clouding her face.

"Kindly remember that I am a Guild inspector. I am decidedly impartial about everything."

"I wasn't meaning to imply…" Amelia tried to apologise but Hortense cut her off.

"Don't worry about Verna," she purred. "She can be a little... excitable." She gestured towards the far end of the room. "When you've finished with the trivialities, perhaps you would care to introduce me to the rest of the staff."

"What?" Amelia was momentarily confused, and then she took in the sight of Davina and Imogen who were standing, looking slightly uneasy, by the window. "Of course."

She beckoned the pair forward. "Allow me to introduce Miss Davina Bat, our chanting teacher and Miss Imogen Drill, our games mistress."

"Miss Bat." Hortense strode forward and warmly shook Miss Bat's hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Really?" Davina twittered nervously, looking with more than a little longing towards the stationary cupboard.

"All good things of course, I'm sure," Amelia added quickly.

"But of course," Hortense smiled warmly at Davina. "Your chanting lessons are legendary."

"Oh really," Davina fluttered a hand in front of her face, basking in the attention.

Constance had entered the room during the introductions and tutted loudly as she watched Davina. Amelia frowned slightly, wishing that her colleague would at least join in with the pretence that they were a united team. She turned back to Hortense.

"And last but not least…" she gestured to Imogen.

Imogen smiled and held out her hand, trying to rid an unwanted image of an ice queen from her head.

Hortense stared down at Imogen's hand as though it was diseased.

"Quite." She turned her attention back to Miss Cackle, making no attempt to shake the offered hand. "I'd heard a rumour that you'd decided to employ a non-magical member of staff. I know that some of the more liberal establishments have decided that it's a 'progressive' thing to do, but I'm surprised to see such a traditional school as Cackles breaking with the past in this way. Do you really think that it's wise to dilute the purity of the magic within the school?"

"Now excuse me…" Imogen replied hotly but Amelia cut over the top of her.

"We…. That is I, thought that it would be beneficial to have organised exercise for the girls."

"Don't get me wrong," Hortense told her. "I understand the thinking, I'm just not sure I understand why you couldn't have found some one a little more….how shall we say…suitable for a witches school."

"Excuse me…" Imogen's face was like thunder.

"Consider yourself excused," Hortense told her coldly. "I really feel as though this investigation of the school would proceed all the more smoother if all non-essential personnel were out of the way."

"Now listen here…" Imogen retorted but once again she was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

"Perhaps we should all sit down and have a cup of tea," Constance advised. "It must have been a long flight and Miss Hyssop certainly looks as though she would appreciate the chance of taking the weight off her feet."

"Yes Constance," Amelia quickly agreed with her deputy. "A splendid idea." She gestured towards the table. "If you'd care to take a seat Miss Spellbinder."

"Very well," Hortense acquiesced. "I shan't start my investigation until after lunch."

Hortense followed Davina and Constance towards the table, where she took a seat across from Constance and tried to ignore the fact that Verna had already piled her plate high with, what was to her mind, an unreasonable number of crumpets.

Amelia placed a restraining hand on Imogen's arm.

"I should have warned you," she apologised. "Some of the Guild are less than happy with the presence of non-witches within the education system."

"Just don't leave me alone with her," Imogen growled. "Otherwise I'll soon show her just what non-essential personnel are capable of."

"I'm sorry Imogen but please, for the sake of the school, can you try not to rise to the things that she may say?"

Imogen looked at the pleading expression on Amelia's face and tried to rein her temper in. She smiled thinly at her. "I'll do my best," She told her sincerely.

"Thank you." Amelia patted her colleague on the arm. "Now shall we join them?"

"I see that you and Hortense know each other," Verna remarked as the others took their places at the table. "How long have you been friends?"

Constance clicked her tongue against her teeth. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that we were friends," she replied coldly, pouring herself a cup of tea and trying not to gag at the sight of half-chewed crumpets in Miss Hyssop's open mouth.

Hortense laughed softly. "Typical Constance; always such a cold fish." She turned to Verna. "Constance and I were at the WTC together. We haven't seen each other since we graduated."

Imogen raised her head and made eye contact with Amelia. This was news.

"So Constance, this is where you're hiding yourself these days?" Hortense smiled, insincerity oozing from every pore as she slowly stirred sugar into her tea.

Amelia and Imogen switched their attention to Constance, waiting for a response.

Constance raised her teacup from its saucer. "I would hardly call it hiding."

"But here?" Hortense pushed the point but kept her tone light. "I thought you were supposed to be destined for greatness?"

Constance took a sip of her tea and returned the cup to its saucer with controlled precision. "You always did have a predilection for exaggeration," she retorted. "It's good to see that some things haven't changed."

As one Amelia and Imogen switched their attention back to Hortense, completely wrapped up in the conversation that was playing out in front of them, waiting to see where it would turn.

Hortense pulled a face. "But a school Constance, and a more to the point, a school like this. Mistress Broomhead would turn in her grave…."

"If she were dead," Constance butted in.

"You know what I mean." Hortense refused to be swayed. "The great Constance Hardbroom reduced to teaching 2nd year potion making. It's almost laughable."

"Do you know that it's possible to die laughing?" Davina interjected into the silence, blissfully unaware of the tension that was building in the air. "No it's true," she nodded and looked from one witch to the other. "Some person died whilst laughing at a television programme."

"Really." Constance's voice was hard; her attention still fixed on Hortense.

"Really," Miss Bat nodded vigorously. "Its no wonder that they say that television is bad for you."

"There are a number of things in this world that are bad for you," Constance replied. "Sticking your nose in where it's not wanted, for one."

"Ohh exactly." Davina's head wobbled. "You should never do that."

"People who stick their noses in where they're not wanted, run the risk of having them chopped off." Constance's gaze was unflinching.

"Is that a threat?" Hortense smiled, entering back into the conversation, her green eyes flashing with amusement.

"Ladies, ladies," Amelia butted in to try to break up the argument before it got out of hand. "Please."

Hortense inclined her head towards Amelia and a smile formed on her face.

"You must forgive Constance and I; we were always a little combative in our conversations. I'm sure Constance knows that I mean nothing by it."

All heads turned to Constance; whose face was like thunder.

"Constance?" Amelia questioned.

"Everything is perfectly fine Headmistress," Constance's voice was light. "As Hortense said; anything she says means nothing to me."

An awkward silence fell over the small group. It was broken moments later by a huge burp.

"I do beg your pardon," Verna apologised, looking a little bashful. "Crumpets always have that effect on me." She beamed round at the rest of the table. "I can just tell that this little visit is going to go swimmingly."

* * *

The level of noise that was being generated by the second years in the potion lab, spoke very clearly of Miss Hardbroom's absence. The girls were starting to stray from their positions at the benches and were beginning to gather in small groups.

Mildred had been dreading her first potions lesson with Miss Hardbroom but now she wanted nothing more than for HB to appear out of thin air and commence the lesson. She could feel the attention of the other girls fixed on her; some were more subtle in the way that they watched her, but Ethel and Drusilla made no secret of the fact that they were following her every move.

Mildred tried her best to follow Maud's instructions and ignore them, but she was more tempted by Ruby's suggestion of turning them into frogs. She'd heard the low whispering as she entered the potions lab; some of the other girls linking the arrival of the inspectors to the incidents of parents evening.

She tapped her hand nervously on the desk. "Shouldn't one of us go and find HB?"

"Just relax," Maud told her, with as much patience as she could muster. "Ignore them."

"That's easy for you to say," Mildred grumbled as she heard another outbreak of low whispering from the benches behind her. "You're not the one that's being blamed for the arrival of the inspectors."

Ethel had watched the interchange between Mildred and Maud and decided that it was time to bring the subject out into the open.

"Well I think that something ought to be done about it," she told Drusilla in a loud voice. She glanced around to check that she had been heard. "It's not right that the whole school should be under threat just because Mildred Hubble can't control her magic."

"Shut up Ethel," Maud snapped, turning in her seat to confront her classmate. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Ethel pulled a face. "So you're saying that Mildred didn't cast some powerful spell that very nearly led to the whole school being taken over and everyone killed?"

"It wasn't like that," Maud argued, knowing that if Ethel pushed the point, she wouldn't be able to back up the argument with fact.

"So the Great Hall got into its current state all by itself, did it?"

Maud took a breath. "Nothing bad happened at the end of the day Ethel, so I don't know what your problem is."

"Don't know what the problem is," Drusilla leapt into the conversation. "The school is under investigation by the Witches' Guild. I'd say that that was something of a problem."

"I wouldn't worry too much about things," a voice floated out of the air.

The girls all shut up immediately and looked around to see who had spoken.

"There's no reason to be afraid," the lilting Scottish voice told them. "Not all inspectors are monsters."

"Where are you?" Enid looked around the room, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. After the events of parents evening, she wasn't sure that unexpected voices in the air were a good thing.

"I'm over here," the voice replied unhelpfully. There was a pause as realisation sank in. "I'm still invisible, aren't I?"

"Yes Miss," Maud told her. "Where are you supposed to be?"

"I'm by the blackboard." There was the sound of feet on the stone floor.

Maud stood up and peered over the top of the table. She finally caught sight of a pair of tatty black boots. "I can see your feet," she announced.

"Blast."

There was a pause and then finally Verna piped up. "I don't suppose that any of you know how to complete this spell?"

Maud and Enid looked at each other, both thinking that this might be the opportunity to find out exactly how HB managed to get from A to B at will.

"If you tell us how it starts Miss, we might be able to…."

"Not to worry girls," Verna told them and moments later she appeared up to her waist.

"Is that any better?"

The girls exchanged glances, not sure whether they were allowed to laugh or not.

"It's a bit better," Maud told her. "You're halfway there now."

"Oh blast."

There was giggling in the room as a low muttering could be heard. Enid wasn't certain but she thought she caught a few words that were most definitely not magical terms.

"Right. This should do it."

There was more muttering and then silence. The girls leaned forward as one, expectation getting the better of them.

There was an almighty loud crash of noise, and the room was filled with choking blue smoke. Clouds billowed out from around a figure who was frantically trying to bat them away.

The girls, who had initially screamed at the sudden explosion of noise, were now chattering and laughing as the spectacle continued.

"Girls, girls." Verna tried to scold them but her words were lost amid the plumes of smoke.

Mildred rose to her feet and moved to help the elderly witch. She could see the way that she was struggling to fight her way out of the smoke.

"Creep," Ethel whispered as she passed, but Mildred ignored her.

"Thank you dear," Verna said earnestly as she felt a hand guiding her from the heavy pall of smoke and onto the stool that was situated behind the main desk.

Verna looked around her at the clouds of smoke and then raised a hand.

"Do you think you ought to?" Mildred asked her; a little nervous about what would happen if the elderly witch attempted another simple spell.

Verna lowered her hand again. "Maybe you're right." She smiled at Mildred. "Would you and your friends mind opening the windows?"

Maud and Enid rose to their feet and helped Mildred to open the heavy catches on the windows. Cold air seeped into the rooms and the girls shivered as the smoke gradually began to clear.

"Now that's better," Verna smiled at the group. "We can finally see each other. I'm sure some of you will be aware of who I am. For those of you who are not tuned into the school's grapevine, I'm Miss Hyssop, I'm here with Miss Spellbinder on a visit from the Witches' Guild.

"But why are you here?" Maud asked. "I mean, why does the Witches' Guild want to come to Cackles?"

Verna smiled. "Every school needs to have a little check up every once in a while. Just think of it as a sort of M.O.T."

Enid frowned. "And that's all there is to it?"

Verna frowned slightly and then her face broke into a smile. "Well it does no harm to scare the staff." She tapped the side of her nose. "We always do our best to make them fear the worst. Let's just keep that between ourselves though, shall we?"

There was a general whispering that spread throughout the room and a smile formed on the faces of many of the girls.

Verna's beaming smile grew wider. "Now girls, why don't you tell me what you've been getting up to?"

* * *

"Non-essential member of staff," Imogen mimicked angrily as she set about piling the remains of the tea things onto a tray. "Who's she to tell me that I'm non-essential."

Davina looked at her quizzically. "She's one of the inspectors from the Witches' Guild," she explained patiently. "You were introduced to her not half an hour ago."

"I know who she is," Imogen retorted through gritted teeth. "I just don't know who she thinks she is, to talk to me… or anyone for that matter, like that."

"She's a Guild inspector," Davina repeated slowly as though she was talking to a particularly dim cat. "We just covered that."

"She's impossible." Imogen slammed a teacup down onto the tray and the tepid liquid in the bottom sloshed over the side of the cup.

"I couldn't agree with you more," came a cold voice from the corridor. "But perhaps you shouldn't be quite so loud with your complaints; they're hardly going to do anything to improve the impression Miss Spellbinder and Miss Hyssop have of the school."

Imogen clasped a hand to her heart in shock as the words cut into the air. "Constance," she admonished the potions teacher. "I didn't see you there."

"Well that was obvious by the way you were carrying on, carelessly slating the very people who are here to decide the fate of the school."

"I didn't exactly see you holding back your personal feelings earlier."

Constance stiffened. "That was entirely different."

"It always is when it comes to you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Imogen sighed. "Can we not do this now? I really don't have the energy for it."

"Then may I suggest that you attend to the tea things with a little less venom directed towards our guests."

"Where is the evil one?"

Constance narrowed her eyes. "She is in the office talking to Miss Cackle."

"And you're not in there with her?"

Constance selected her next words carefully. "She wanted to go through a few things with Miss Cackle in private."

Imogen tried to hide the smirk that formed on her face. It seemed as though Constance's nose was most definitely put out of joint by the presence of Hortense Spellbinder. Whilst she wasn't exactly pleased to have the inspectors within the school, it might prove interesting to watch the way that things shaped up between the two former classmates during the coming days.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Just a little update. Hope you guys are still with me. **_

* * *

Hortense looked at her watch and sighed heavily. She'd told Verna to be in Miss Cackle's office sharply at 1400 hours. It was now 1410 and there was still no sign of her.

"She said that she was just going to walk off her lunch." She clicked her tongue against her teeth in annoyance. "I should never have let her go off unaccompanied."

"She may have gotten lost," Amelia offered. "Some of these corridors do seem to bamboozle people on their first visit."

"And yet you've never thought of putting up signs to direct pupils to the right place?"

Amelia was searching for an answer when there was a gentle tap on the door.

"Come in," Hortense called out smoothly before Amelia had had a chance to answer.

"And there was me thinking that this was my office," she grumbled beneath her breath.

"I do apologise," Hortense replied. She inclined her head towards the door as the tentative knock was repeated. "Perhaps you'd like this turn!"

"Ahem, yes." Amelia felt suddenly foolish about making such a fuss.

The knock came again.

"Well invite the poor soul in before she takes all the skin off her knuckles."

"Come in," Amelia called out, feeling more than a little self-conscious.

There was a pause and then a little gentle tap-tapping again.

"Oh for heaven's sake." Hortense strode across the room and yanked the door open with more force than was strictly necessary.

"Oh my…"

Verna was standing on the threshold, her hand raised, ready to knock again. She jumped slightly in shock as the door was opened; her face then turned into a slight frown as she registered Hortense. "Well aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked testily.

Hortense sighed and beckoned the elderly witch into the room. "Come along Verna, some of us don't have all day."

"I was introducing myself to some of the girls," she apologised to Amelia. "I hope you don't mind."

Amelia smiled. "Of course not. They're really a good group of girls."

"Quite," Hortense cut the conversation dead. "I wanted to have a word with you, to explain exactly why we're here."

Amelia frowned. "I received the letter from the Guild; it spoke of 'unexplained magic'."

"Ahh yes," Hortense purred. "That was a little misleading. The Guild received more than a few interesting letters in the past week or so. They mentioned some very strange goings on. I was hoping that you'd be able to elucidate things for me."

Amelia tried to keep the concern from her face. "I'll do what I can," she promised Hortense.

"Well, what more can the Guild ask for?" Hortense smiled thinly. She turned her attention to the clipboard that she was holding in her hands. She lifted up one of the letters that were pinned to the board. "What's this I hear about magic on the loose in the Great Hall?"

Amelia pulled a face and wondered how best to explain the situation. If she was honest with herself, she really didn't know what had happened. She had tried to broach the subject with her deputy but Constance had refused to say more beyond the basic facts.

Hortense looked down at the clipboard in her hand and then back up at Miss Cackle.

"Well?"

"It's a little hard to explain," Amelia admitted. "Perhaps Constance would be better placed to talk you through the details."

"I'll get round to Constance in due course," Hortense retorted smoothly. "Right now, I want to hear what you have to say about the matter."

"Well…." Amelia tailed off again.

Hortense sighed. "Perhaps then we should start with something a little more straightforward." She glanced at her clipboard again. "I hear that you needed to call a plumber out?"

Amelia nodded and searched through the pile of invoices on her desk, wishing that she'd instigated a better filing system than simply opening letters and dumping them on the table.

"And what precisely necessitated you calling a plumber out?"

Amelia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "The pipes came under something of an unexpected strain."

"And what precisely caused that strain?" The words were spoken very deliberately and Amelia was certain that Hortense already had the answer written in front of her on the clipboard.

Amelia searched around for the right words. "As I'm sure you're aware, we held a parents' evening and that meant that there were a lot more people within the school than usual."

"But I heard that there was unexpected heavy usage of the plumbing facilities."

Amelia winced; it was obvious that someone had been telling tales to the Witch's Guild. There was only one spell that, used for a prolonged period of time, resulted in a stampede for the nearest toilet. "We were forced to put a freezing spell on the occupants of the hall," she admitted.

"We?" Hortense questioned pointedly. "Forced?"

"Yes." Amelia was beginning to feel rattled. "We felt that there was danger to the people in the hall and so a freezing spell was cast."

"And were you the caster of this particular spell?"

"Not exactly."

"May I - may I see the bill from the plumber?" Verna raised her hand nervously and stammered out her request.

Hortense glared at her colleague with barely contained frustration, her green eyes narrowing.

Amelia smoothed out the invoice she had received from Harriet Goodcharm's father and wished that it didn't have such an obvious tea stain in the bottom right hand corner.

Verna took the invoice from her and held it up impossibly close to her face.

"If we could get back to the details of what happened during parents evening," Hortense tapped the clipboard impatiently. "How long exactly was this freezing spell in place for?"

"Well..er…I-" Amelia stumbled and fiddled with the cuff of her cardigan.

"He writes very small, this plumber of yours," Verna noted as she squinted at the invoice in her hand.

Hortense sighed, annoyed with the constant distraction of her colleague. "Perhaps your glasses would improve the situation," she told Verna, her tone snarling.

"What?" Verna looked confused and then patted the top of her head and smiled. "Well I never," she remarked. "I could have sworn that I was already wearing them." She lifted them from the top of her head and pushed them onto her nose. "Now that's a lot better."

Amelia smiled sympathetically at the elderly inspector. "I'm always doing that with my glasses," she admitted.

"Doing what dear?"

Amelia frowned. "Leaving them on top of my head and forgetting that I'm not wearing them."

"You should put them on a chain," Verna suggested and returned her attention to the invoice in her hand.

"This freezing spell," Hortense tapped impatiently on her clipboard. "How long was it in place for?"

"Ahh, well you'd really need to talk to Constance about that," Amelia admitted.

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "You were there Miss Cackle, I'm sure you are more than capable of telling me how long the occupants of the hall were frozen for."

"Well ….I…" Amelia struggled for the right words to say.

"Come along Miss Cackle, it's a straightforward enough question. How long did you instruct Miss Hardbroom to maintain the spell for?"

Amelia coughed nervously. "I was also er….well … you see Constance had to freeze everyone in the hall and that well…. that included me."

"What?"

"Well, it was all very confusing…." Amelia tailed off as she saw the way that Hortense was frantically scribbling on her clipboard. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea about what happened."

Hortense smiled thinly and raised her head from her work. "Oh, I don't think that I've got the wrong idea. You're saying that your deputy placed a freezing spell on every occupant in the room for an, as yet, undetermined period of time. You do realise that that contravenes the Witch's Code?" Hortense balanced her clipboard on one arm and produced a well-thumbed copy of the code from her pocket. She flicked expertly through the pages. "Section 14, sub section 23 expressly forbids one witch to freeze an entire group without the back up of another witch," she finally announced, a finger stabbing at the pertinent paragraph in the book.

"There was another witch outside of the influence of the spell," Amelia replied quickly, immediately regretting her actions.

"Really?" Hortense raised an eyebrow questioningly. "And the name of this other excluded witch?"

Amelia opened her mouth to try and work out where to begin the explanations.

"The name of this other witch?" Hortense prompted.

"Well…."

"Her name Miss Cackle…I presume you are aware of who it was?"

"Well yes."

"So you can tell me her name?"

Amelia closed her eyes, realising that there was no way out of the conversation. "It was Mildred Hubble."

Hortense made a show of lifting the front sheet of her clipboard and scanning the list of names that she had. "I don't see a Mildred Hubble on your staff."

"She's a second year pupil," Amelia admitted.

Hortense widened her eyes in fake surprise. "So your deputy chose to leave an inexperienced witch as her back up?"

Amelia raised a hand and rubbed at her eyes; this really wasn't the way that she'd been hoping the conversation would go. "Mildred was protected from the effects of the spell as she was already surrounded by a protection spell."

"Really!"

There was a wealth of feeling in that one word and Amelia felt her heart sink.

"And who cast this protection spell?"

"How much work did he do?"

Amelia and Hortense both turned their heads at Verna's sudden interjection.

"I beg your pardon?" Amelia was completely at a loss as to what Verna was talking about.

Verna flapped the piece of paper that she was holding in her hand. "How much work did your plumber have to do?"

"Er…" Amelia blinked and tried to dredge up the information required. "He had to replace some of the pipe work and deal with a problem with the overflow."

Verna raised her eyebrows above her glasses. "And this was what he charged?"

"Yes." Amelia was beginning to lose patience with the elderly inspector.

"Hmmmm," Verna returned her attention to the paper.

Hortense closed her eyes and let out a long sigh before addressing Amelia. "Who put Mildred Hubble within the bounds of a protection spell?"

"Do you mind if I take his number?"

"What?" Amelia snapped her attention back to Verna again. Her temper was beginning to fray.

"The number of your plumber," Verna spoke to Amelia as though she were a particularly backward child. "Do you mind if I take the number of your plumber? Good plumbers are so hard to find these days."

"Yes...Yes…" Amelia told her dismissively. "Please feel free to take his number."

She turned her attention back to Hortense. "There was, as I'm sure you're well aware, a magical entity on the loose and Constance thought that it was safer to place Mildred within the bounds of a protection spell rather than have her at the mercy of the entity."

"And Mildred was the only one that your deputy singled out for this treatment?"

"And he did good work, did he?" Verna asked, oblivious to the effect that her constant interruptions were having on the other occupants of the room.

"Mildred has something of an overactive imagination," Amelia tried to concentrate on her conversation with Hortense. "Constance thought it would be better to protect Mildred from the effects of the loose magic."

"I was just wondering," Verna continued. "His prices seem really reasonable but I don't want to take his number if his prices are indicative of a lack of skill."

"And why precisely did Constance think that Mildred Hubble was a target for this entity?" Hortense asked coldly. "What else is there that you're not telling me?"

"Mildred was responsible for the magic being in the air in the first place," Amelia admitted. "She has something of an over active imagination and Constance just wanted to make sure that the magic didn't get a chance to exploit it."

Hortense smiled; an action that was already beginning to cause an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Amelia's stomach. "Mildred Hubble, one of your second year pupils was responsible for the magic that was loose in the air?"

Amelia could hear the incredulity in Miss Spellbinder's voice. "Yes," she answered quietly.

Hortense shook her head and looked down at the letters that were clipped to her board. "And just how did this second year witch gain access to such powerful magic?"

Amelia pulled a face. "Ahh…" she began, wishing that Constance was there to answer the questions. She had the feeling that this was going to turn out to be a very difficult afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**Sorry that this has taken so long to post; I've been having a frantic few weeks.**

* * *

Miss Cackle was beginning to feel as though she was experiencing the worst day of her life to date. She had spent the last three hours desperately trying to explain the events of the past week to two inspectors from the Witches' Guild. The blond-haired Hortense Spellbinder had been scribbling so much on her clipboard that she'd had to re-sharpen her pencil twice, whilst the elderly Verna Hyssop had finally gotten over her obsession with the plumber and was now snoozing gently in an armchair, occasionally letting out a low snore and muttering something about pottery owls.

"It's all perfectly straightforward…" Amelia found herself saying to Hortense. "I climbed onto the piano to put some distance between myself and the rather over amorous attentions of some of the parents." She closed her eyes and wished that she could take back the last sentence. She didn't dare to look at Hortense, convinced that the woman would now be writing even more furiously on the reams of paper that she seemed to have pinned on her clipboard; she imagined smoke rising as the inspector struggled to write down everything that she was thinking.

"And why, precisely, were so many parents trying to make their way to your side?"

Amelia sighed at the question, wishing for the umpteenth that a portal to another dimension would open up in her office and carry her away. "It was the perception altering spell," she explained once again.

Hortense tilted her head to one side and regarded Miss Cackle for a moment.

"It must have been a pretty strong spell."

Amelia decided to treat the comment with the contempt she felt it deserved and pushed on with her explanation. "Constance said that it was the…"

Hortense raised a hand. "I'm sorry Miss Cackle, what I need here are your recollections of what happened. When I want to know what Miss Hardbroom made of the evening, I will ask her directly."

Amelia frowned and wondered, not for the first time, if in fact everyone in Constance's tutor group had come out the same way. In the past three hours, Amelia had had very real sensations of déjà vu. Some of Hortense's expressions and remarks had reminded her very strongly of the sort of conversation she'd had with Constance when she'd first announced her decision to employ a non-magical member of staff. The tone of disapproval was palpable in her voice and the expressions on her face said more than a thousand words ever could. She was getting the very distinct impression that she was fighting a losing battle.

Amelia took a deep breath and tried, once again, to explain to Hortense everything she knew about the events of parents' evening. She ploughed on through everything she could, hardly daring to pause for breath, lest Hortense find something else to complain about. Finally, happy that she'd covered everything; she finished her sentence and took a much needed deep breath.

Hortense regarded her blankly for a few moments before tapping the end of her pencil on her clipboard. "So let me get this straight. Your deputy has not only been guilty of storing the Forbidden Volumes in a place where there are impressionable young children around, she has cast spells on non-magical individuals, used spells that are expressly forbidden to be used for more than a 15 minute duration and been caught smoking in a public place!" Hortense summed up the notes she had made on her clipboard.

"Now I don't think that you're being fair…" Amelia wanted to try and redress the situation but she was cut off.

"This isn't about being fair!" Hortense pointed out, her voice shooting up an octave. "It is about ensuring that pupils in this school are not subjected to unnecessary danger."

"There is no way that Constance would place any of the students in danger," Amelia argued.

"So you are saying that she didn't do any of the things I just listed?" Hortense countered and allowed herself a small smile of victory as she watched Miss Cackle stumble slightly.

"Well…"

"You see Miss Cackle; I believe that I am only scratching the surface here. I get the distinct impression that if I were to dig a little deeper, I would find many other instances of your 'trusted and respected' deputy breaking the rules and leading the pupils in this school into potential danger."

"And I object to your inference that Constance would do anything to jeopardise the safety of the girls within the school," Amelia replied hotly.

Hortense lowered her clipboard slowly and met Amelia's gaze firmly. "I'm not inferring anything. I am merely taking an objective look at the situation; something which you seem singularly unable to do."

Amelia opened her mouth to argue with Hortense and then promptly shut it again. Arguing with an inspector from the Witches' Guild was not the way to go if one wanted one's school to continue to operate at the end of an inspection.

"There were mitigating circumstances," she pointed out.

Hortense looked at her over the top of her clipboard. "I'm looking forward to hearing those," she remarked flatly.

* * *

Enid looked up from the book she was reading as she heard a tap on the door.

"Come in," she called out.

The door opened smoothly on recently oiled hinges and Maud entered the room.

"Maud," Enid's face lit up. "What brings you here?"

"I noticed that you didn't join us at dinner time," she began. "And that you sat with Belinda Briarswood during potions. I think it's time to talk about you and Mildred."

"Oh," Enid's face dropped and she turned her attention back to her book, hoping to convince Maud that she was really more interested in potions than talking about her friends.

"Come on," Maud told her. "We have to sort this out. Mildred thinks that you hate her. I've told her that that's just ridiculous." She sat down on the edge of Enid's bed. "I hope you're not going to tell me that I've been lying to Mildred."

Enid took a deep breath and closed the book. "It's just this whole parents' evening business," Enid confessed. "It's just all too weird. There are things that I can remember as clear as day and then there are others that seem almost dreamlike." She glanced at Maud. "I turned my brother into a toad for heaven's sake. I mean, I know he's annoying but I've never misused my magic in that way before."

"But you know that that wasn't really Mildred's fault."

Enid raised an eyebrow. "If it wasn't for that spell she attempted then nothing strange would have happened."

"We all agreed to try the spell…" Maud reminded her. "For Ruby's sake."

Enid pulled a face. "But trust Mildred to pick a spell that nearly brings the school to its knees."

Maud shrugged her shoulders. "That's Mildred for you."

"Hmm."

"Come on Enid," Maud pleaded. "She's finding it really hard to deal with it all."

"She's finding it hard!"

"Enid please."

Enid shook her head. "I don't know how you can sit there and say that none of it bothers you. You might be alright not knowing just how the Great Hall got into that state and what happened to you for those few hours, but I'm finding it pretty hard to just brush under the carpet."

Maud met Enid's gaze. "I'm not saying that it doesn't unnerve me," she admitted. "But Mildred's started to talk about it and I'm beginning to think that we were the lucky ones."

Enid shrugged her shoulders. "I just wish she'd tell us what happened."

"She will, just give her time."

"Ok ok," Enid finally conceded. "But she's got to promise to try and explain things."

"I'll tell her." Maud paused and glanced at her friend. "But until then, you will try and keep things normal though, won't you?" she pleaded. "I think she's finding things harder than she's letting on."

Enid took in the serious expression on Maud's face and smiled. "With you in her corner, I don't think that Mildred's got anything to worry about."

"So you're going to tell her that everything's fine between you?" Maud persisted, not willing to leave until she'd heard the answer she wanted from Enid.

"As Miss Cackle said, we'll all have to pull together to get through this inspection," Enid finally replied.

"Why do I get the feeling that the next couple of weeks are going to be a nightmare?" Maud asked nervously.

Enid grinned at her. "Just another term in paradise."

* * *

Night fell upon the occupants of the Castle. Whilst the pupils slept, the cats hunted and the bats went out on their normal nocturnal activities, some of the more senior members of the school were having greater difficulty sleeping than normal.

Amelia was restlessly pacing the corridors, taking in the detail of every stone, paranoid that the Witches' Guild were planning to do something to take it all away from her. Imogen lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering just what to do about the lingering doubts she had about the memory erase spell that had been cast on her, and lost in the throes of REM sleep, Davina twitched and muttered improper suggestions to Egbert Helibore.

Constance pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the darkness of the Great Hall, shivering as the cold air wrapped itself around her. Once again, sleep had evaded her. She'd never been one for needing much sleep, but it seemed to her that during the past week it had been much harder to come by.

She'd wanted to avoid making a connection between the events that had occurred during parents' evening and her current state of insomnia, but as sleepless night followed sleepless night, it was a factor that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

She pushed the thoughts away and took a step into the silent darkness of the hall; eyes searching out the details of the room, reassuring herself that nothing had changed, nothing had been altered. The room was exactly the way she had left it last; the tattered remains of bunting hung limply from the blackened walls. She clicked her tongue against her teeth; something had to be done about repairing the damage to the hall. It was the room at the centre of life at Cackles; so much took place within its walls.

She paced further into the room, her boots echoing on the stone flags beneath her feet.

A sudden chill halted her advance; she spun on her heel and peered into the darkened corners of the room, certain that she had seen something moving silently in the shadows. After a few moments she released the breath she had been holding and shook her head, trying to dismiss the feeling of unease that had settled around her shoulders. The entity had gone; the spell had done its job and the school was free from its influence. She took another step into the room; if that was the case then why did she feel a need to come to the hall every night and stand in the darkness, listening out for something that wasn't there.

She flexed her fingers, feeling the magic within her react to her movements. She clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms; was her magic truly hers again, was there not the merest chance that something of the entity remained within her?

Closing her eyes, she stood in the silence of the hall and listened to the magic in the air; as it slowly returned, filling the empty voids that the entity had created.

Constance breathed in deeply and let the familiar presence of magic wash over her. In time all would return to normal, she just had to be patient and let things take their natural course.

* * *

Hortense sat cross legged on the floor of her room and stared at the blood red crystal that she'd placed in front of her. She watched as patterns of light danced across the surface, telling her that the sphere was nearly at full strength.

Hortense picked up the spell book and flicked through the pages, looking for the correct incantation. There was a part of her that hated having to use the crystal; hated the fact that she didn't have enough magic of her own to cast the spell. It wasn't her fault that she had never passed the final practical spells test. She closed her eyes and banished the memory of that day from her mind. Now was not the time to get distracted by things that had happened years ago; now was the time to concentrate on redressing the balance.

She pressed the heel of her hand to the page of the book and made sure that it was going to remain open. Memory erase spells were dangerous things; things that should only be attempted in dire emergencies. The voice of Heckity Broomhead filled her mind; a striking image of her former teacher springing, unbidden before her eyes.

She shivered and tried to return her attention to the words in front of her. Imogen Drill had had a memory erase spell cast on her; she'd managed to gather that from the whispering in the corridors and a sneaky look at the pages of the young teacher's own diary.

Imogen had seen the file; had seen the real thoughts that Heckity Broomhead had made about her prized pupil. Hortense wanted more than anything to see that file; wanted to know if what she'd always believed about Constance was really true.

She took a deep breath and concentrated on the crystal. If she got this right then the memory erase spell would be lifted and the truth would come out once and for all.

She began reciting the words of the reversing spell, faltering slightly as she reached a section where the words were unfamiliar. She felt a power boost as the magic within the crystal was called into play. She clenched her fists and concentrated harder on the spell.

* * *

Imogen sat bolt upright in bed, a slight sheen of perspiration upon her face. She looked round in shock; her heart racing. Her eyes scanned the room again; looking for any sign of an intruder. She pushed a hand through her hair and tried to relax. It had felt as though there were someone in the room with her; someone rifling through her belongings. She paused; it had been more than that, more personal; as though someone had been going through her memories.

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. It had been a bad dream, nothing more.

She lay back in her bed and stared up at the ceiling. A thought was running through her head and she wasn't sure that she liked it. As far as she was aware someone had already been messing with her memories; she didn't like the idea that they were at it again.

* * *

Hortense swore loudly as she felt the spell miss its intended target and dissipate into the air. She had been close, so close but something had caused the magic to fail. She closed the spell book with more force than was strictly necessary and glared at the now pale red crystal. The spell had used up all the magic she'd been able to gather; she'd have to wait a few days before she could attempt it again. It angered her to think that Constance had been able to cast the spell without the need for magical aids, or spell books. She'd probably just sat there and cast the spell without even thinking about it. Hortense growled under her breath and resolved to start collecting magic again in the morning.

* * *

In the darkness of the Great Hall there was a crackle and a flash of light. The entity greedily soaked up the magic that had been unleashed. It had lain in the darkness, waiting impatiently for magic to fill the air again. It needed the magic to bring more of itself back; to grow once again into the being it had managed before. It cursed the lack of magic that caused it to remain stuck within one area, unable to move freely about the school to places where the magic residue was stronger.

It needed a vessel; it needed a way of moving around the school. It hissed in frustration and faded back into the shadows. It's time would come; it just had to be patient and search out a suitable vessel. There were witches back within the school now; one of them would surely be open to the gifts it had to offer.


	7. Chapter 7

Ethel was on her way to breakfast when she spotted Miss Spellbinder heading down the corridor towards her. She slowed her pace as the immaculately attired witch drew closer. There was, to her mind, something almost regal about the way that the Guild inspector moved through the bustling corridor; never breaking pace, almost seeming to glide through the crowd of girls as though they weren't there.

Ethel was brought back to reality with a bump as Drusilla bowled into the back of her.

"What did you stop for?" she heard Drusilla grumble, as her friend tried to regain her composure. "If we don't get a move on, we'll miss breakfast."

"You should look where you're going," Ethel responded huffily, hoping that Miss Spellbinder hadn't witnessed the corridor collision. She nodded in the direction of the Inspector. "I'm going to be like that when I'm older."

Drusilla stared past her friend's shoulder and took in the approaching figure.

"You want to be a Guild Inspector?" The tone in her voice made it clear what she thought of that particular vocation.

"No," Ethel tried to keep a hold on her patience. "I just want to be that sophisticated, that glamorous." She turned her head to glance at Drusilla. "You do know who she is, don't you?"

Drusilla pulled a face. "She's Miss Spellbinder."

"Think about it," Ethel encouraged her friend. "Think about the name."

Dru shrugged her shoulders. "What about it?"

Ethel let out a sigh. "Spellbinder...She's one of **the** Spellbinders. Don't you know anything about history and famous witch families?"

Dru shrugged her shoulders again. Ethel let out an exclamation of surprise. "There are times Drusilla Paddock, when I wonder why I like you!"

"Morning girls."

Ethel was momentarily lost for words as Miss Spellbinder came to a halt in front of her.

"Morning Miss," she finally managed to stammer back.

"I was thinking that it was about time that I heard all about this school from the people who really know what's going on," Miss Spellbinder explained smoothly. "Would the two of you be free to talk with me in Miss Cackle's office?"

"Of course," Ethel replied quickly. "Drusilla and I know everything that goes on around here."

"I'm sure that you do." Her smile widened. "Come and find me later in the day. Say, at morning break?"

"Yes Miss," the two girls chorused.

Ethel watched as Miss Spellbinder nodded to them both and then moved away down the corridor. "That was a stroke of luck," she breathed.

"Was it?" Drusilla wasn't so sure.

"Of course it was," Ethel snapped, frustrated that Drusilla never seemed to notice when good fortune fell in their laps. "The inspectors have come here to root out trouble. I suggest that we tell them exactly where they can start looking."

* * *

Imogen yawned widely and wished that it was the weekend. Her morning run had felt to her like a chore rather than the pleasure that it usually was. She couldn't say exactly what had disrupted her usual routine, but she had a pretty good idea on where to start pointing the finger.

Her hand was reaching out for the door of the staff room when she suddenly remembered the presence of their visitors. She let out a long breath as she tried to decide whether she really wanted to go into the room or not; a confrontation with Hortense Spellbinder at this hour of the morning wasn't exactly top of her list of things to do. She was about to turn around and head over to breakfast with the girls, when her pride got the better of her; she was not going to let some pushy witch from the Guild intimidate her. She squared her shoulders; she had just as much right to be within the castle as any of them.

Resolutely, she grabbed hold of the door handle and entered the room.

Hortense and Verna were sat together at the table by the window and they immediately broke off their conversation as Imogen entered.

"Can I help you?" Hortense did nothing to try and hide the obvious irritation she felt at the interruption.

"Just carry on as though I wasn't here," Imogen replied smoothly.

"Hardly something you needed to say," Hortense told her dryly.

Imogen bit back a retort and headed to the table to pick up the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice that Mrs Tapioca was always kind enough to leave out for her. A slight frown formed on her face as she failed to spot it.

"Was there something?" Hortense lowered her teacup back to its saucer and glared at Imogen, making it clear that she had little time for Miss Drill.

Imogen forced a smile onto her face. "It's nothing," she assured them and, grabbing the paper from the table, took up a seat by the fireplace; her humour not lifted by the sight of the empty glass on the table next to Hortense. Whilst she couldn't swear as to the glass's contents, she was certain that there were more than a few traces of orange pith around the inside of the glass.

Imogen raised her eyes as Verna took a seat opposite her. She smiled politely at the elder witch and attempted to turn her attention to the morning paper.

After a few moments, she became aware that Verna's attention was still focused on her. Suppressing a sigh, she lowered the paper. "Can I help you?"

"Oh I am sorry," Verna apologised immediately. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Imogen allowed the surprise to show on her face.

"I'm not quite as against non-magical teachers within witch schools as my colleague," Verna explained with a whisper. "Hortense can be a little….set in her ways."

Imogen huffed slightly. "That's something of an understatement."

Verna smiled understandingly. "She's a witch very much in the classical style. Doesn't really hold with the changes that some of the schools are making."

"I'm surprised that she doesn't get on better with Constance."

"How's that dear?"

"Well, I've always thought of Constance as being very set in her ways…Very traditional."

Verna looked at her. "Traditional?"

"You know…She's a stickler for the rules; is always very firm with the girls."

Verna nodded her understanding. "I know what you mean; there are times where I wish that Hortense would….bend a little." She beckoned Imogen closer. "I sometimes think that she forgets that they are young girls. I do wish she'd give them their heads a little more."

Imogen smiled. "I'm glad that I'm not the only one that thinks that way. Sometimes I feel as though I'm banging my head against a brick wall."

Verna placed a finger over her lips. "Let's keep that between ourselves though, shall we?"

Imogen found herself smiling back at the elderly witch, and thinking that maybe having her within the school wasn't such a bad thing after all. "What's the deal between Constance and Hortense?"

"What's that dear?"

Imogen motioned for Verna to keep her voice down and glanced quickly in Hortense's direction to check that she wasn't listening in before continuing.

"From the way that the two of them paw the ground the moment that they come anywhere near each other, I'm assuming that there must be some history there."

Verna tilted her head to one side briefly. "I suppose that you have a point," she conceded. "I've not really thought about it."

"Don't you know anything about it?" Imogen didn't want to make it look as though she was desperate for gossip but she had to confess that she was really intrigued by the way that Hortense seemed able to unsettle Constance's usual veneer of calm.

"Well I know that they were in the same year at the WTC and that Constance finished top of her class."

"Where did Hortense finish?"

Verna shook her head. "That's something best not talked about," she confided. "I don't believe that she was the most adroit of students."

"Can see why that would have annoyed her," Imogen admitted. "But doesn't explain why Constance lets Hortense get under her skin. She's usually unflappable unless…"

"Unless what?"

Imogen shook her head, dismissing the subject. "It's nothing," she told Verna. "Constance is usually the very picture of control."

"Even during the recent…. unpleasantness?"

Imogen stiffened. "I don't think I'm the person to talk to about that."

"I'm sorry dear," Verna apologised sincerely. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Imogen waved the apology away. "It's fine…I just wish I could remember what happened."

Verna smiled at her sympathetically. "I know how that feels, my memory isn't what it used to be either."

"It's not that," Imogen explained with a wry smile. "It's just that I feel as though something's happened to my memory."

Behind Imogen, Hortense raised her head from the paper she had been pretending to read, suddenly the very picture of attentiveness.

"What's that dear?" Verna asked.

Imogen shrugged her shoulders. "I can't explain it really; it's probably nothing, but I had the feeling this morning that someone was rooting around in my memories." She scratched her head. "Almost as though they were looking for something." She smiled. "Ignore me," she told Verna. "I think I'm just over-tired."

Hortense lowered her head back behind the morning paper and let out a sigh of relief. If there was one thing she didn't need, it was to arouse suspicion from amongst the staff. She reminded herself that she'd have to be much more careful in her spell-casting in future. She may have gotten away with it this time, but there was nothing to say that a future experiment would be as lucky. She had to pick her moments more carefully from now on.

* * *

With the arrival of morning break imminent, Hortense made her way to Miss Cackle's office. She had spent the morning scouring the castle, looking for anything that was placed where it shouldn't be. She was more than a little frustrated that the worst thing she'd discovered was a cat wondering the corridors and yowling plaintively to be let out. She pushed the thought from her mind and checked her watch. She was early; the girls weren't due for a few more minutes. That left her time to get herself settled. She pushed open the door and took in the room that lay before her. There was something about the office that made her uneasy. She wasn't sure exactly what it was that unnerved her, but she suspected that it was in some way connected with the number of times that she had been summoned before her own headmistress. There was something particular about the offices of head teachers; a certain atmosphere that they all seemed to share.

She shivered and tried to shake off the sense of unease; it wouldn't do to appear anything less than the picture of control in front of the pupils of the school. She understood just how much of an impact a stranger could make within a school and she was determined to milk that impact for all that it was worth.

She took her seat at the desk and sat back, waiting for the arrival of Ethel Hallow and her partner in crime.

She had just settled herself in behind the cluttered desk when she heard a smart knock on the door.

"Come in girls," she greeted the two new arrivals smoothly and motioned for them to take a seat. "It was good of you to be so prompt."

"Thank you Miss."

"I've been trying to establish a clear picture of the events of parents evening," Hortense smiled at the two girls as they took their seats. "I hear that the repair bill for the Great Hall is going to be something of a burden to the school fund, and that your father Ethel may have to pay for some of the repairs out of his own pocket?" She shook her head. "That hardly seems fair somehow".

Ethel nodded. "My dad's still waiting on a quote for the work."

"I'm still struggling to understand what happened that night," Hortense admitted. "Miss Cackle has explained things to me but I get the feeling that she's not fully apprised of the facts." Hortense paused and glanced towards the two girls. "Perhaps the two of you would be able to clear up a few details for me?"

"As usual Mildred Hubble was at the bottom of everything," Ethel replied smoothly.

Hortense nodded. "Miss Cackle said as much."

"Really?" There was surprise in Ethel's voice and Hortense realised that she had overplayed her hand.

"Well she didn't say as much in so many words," she explained smoothly. "But it didn't take much effort to read between the lines."

Ethel allowed a smile to spread across her face. "It's about time that Miss Cackle finally realised what Mildred is really like."

Hortense listened to the words of the young girl and realised that her interpretation of the situation had been correct. She carefully considered her next words. "I assume that Miss Hardbroom is wise to the antics of Mildred Hubble?"

Drusilla let out a short laugh. "I should say."

"And yet Mildred appears to remain within the school without censure."

"Miss Cackle is more than a little..."

Hortense watched as Ethel dug Drusilla in the ribs, silencing the other girl immediately. She held her hands up, palms outwards. "I'm not here to try and put Cackle's out of business," she sought to reassure the two girls. "Nothing you say here will, in any way, act to the detriment of the school."

She watched as the two girls exchanged glances.

"I'm not trying to cause trouble," she tried to explain further. "Rather I'm here to root out trouble."

She watched as they seemed to relax slightly.

"I'm guessing that Mildred Hubble isn't exactly Miss Hardbroom's favourite pupil?"

Ethel and Drusilla exchanged a glance.

"I think that Miss Hardbroom would be glad to see the back of Mildred Hubble," Ethel told her. "She does nothing but disrupt lessons."

"She's a walking disaster area," Drusilla agreed.

"Has Miss Hardbroom ever threatened to have Mildred removed from the school?"

When there was no reply from the two girls, Hortense sought to rephrase the question. "What I mean to say is that I can't imagine Constance standing for any nonsense. I've known her for some time and I know she's not the kind of witch to suffer fools gladly."

"Is it true that you were at school with Miss Hardbroom?" Drusilla broached the subject, ignoring the dig in the ribs she received from Ethel.

Hortense smiled. "Not school. We were at the WTC together... back before I realised that I wasn't really cut out for a life of teaching." She sat back in her chair. "Constance was always much more suited to the job. I was never any good at the whole discipline thing. Constance on the other hand never stood for any nonsense." She leant forward conspiratorially towards the two girls. "That's why I don't understand her being so lenient towards a disruptive influence. Don't tell me that my old friend has gone soft in her old age?"

"I think Miss Hardbroom would have Mildred out of here in a flash if she had her way," Ethel smirked.

"Really?" Hortense steepled her fingers and smiled at the two girls, thinking of the best way to phrase her next series of questions.

* * *

Constance let out a long breath and winced as the pain in her left temple increased. She resolved to have words with Davina about the way that she had thumped out the school song that morning. She was certain that the chanting teacher's enthusiasm had been entirely due to the presence of the two inspectors. What was usually a lacklustre performance had turned into something that threatened to shake the building to its very foundations. A dark look crossed her face as she thought of the state of the Great Hall. Bunting and remnants of crepe paper still adorned the walls and hung forlornly from the rafters. The air in the room was still tainted with a faint hint of burnt paper and there was something slightly depressing about the sight.

She'd asked Amelia that they not use the hall until she'd had a chance to clean it up, but Amelia had vetoed the idea, stating that it was important that they get straight back in there and reclaim ownership of the space.

Constance had tried to tell her that the impression that the room made on the Guild inspectors was going to be anything but favourable, but Amelia wasn't to be swayed. She kept resolutely to her guns and so Constance had had to stand and watch the disapproving expressions on the faces of Hortense and Verna as they entered the hall for morning assembly.

She frowned as she thought of the coming days. Hortense was bound to want to come and watch a lesson in progress. There was of course no need for her to visit one of the classes, but Constance was certain that Hortense wouldn't waste an opportunity to make a nuisance of herself.

She took a deep breath and thought of the double potions lesson that lay ahead. If she was honest with herself, then she wanted nothing more than to cancel the lesson and just retire to her rooms for the afternoon. She knew that, with the inspectors within the school, that really wasn't the attitude she should have, but she couldn't help it. She was tired and she really didn't fancy the idea of an afternoon spent dealing with the inadequacies of the present second year. She massaged her temples and tried to push the thought from her head; there were lessons to be taught and she had a duty to perform.

* * *

Mildred pushed open the door to the potions lab and peered into the room, surprise registering on her face when she realised that it was empty.

"Come on," she heard Drusilla sigh heavily from somewhere behind her. "You are still capable of walking into a room without causing a major disaster, aren't you?"

Maud nudged her friend forward and the girls piled into the room, taking up their usual positions at the desks.

"What's up with you?" Maud wanted to know as she rummaged in her bag for her pencil case and notebook.

Mildred looked around the room. "HB's not here."

"So?"

"So…" Mildred continued. "When was the last time we had double potions and she wasn't here before us?"

Maud thought about it for a moment and then shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe she's in a meeting with the inspectors?"

"But HB's never late for double potions. Whenever we walk in here, she always standing there at the front with that look on her face, as though she knows she's going to make the next ninety minutes of our life a living hell."

Maud turned to regard Mildred with an amused look on her face. "There are times I worry about you Mildred," she smiled at her friend.

Mildred wanted to explain things more clearly to her friend but she prevented from explaining further as Belinda Briarswod, who'd been watching at the door, warned that someone was on the way.

"Watch this," Mildred whispered to Maud and indicated that her friend should look towards the door to the potions lab.

Moments later HB strode around the corner and entered the room.

"You see what I mean?" Mildred hissed. "I knew she was going to do that."

Maud turned to look at her friend. She shook her head in bemusement. "Miss Hardbroom enters a room. Shock horror, contact the national papers. I really don't see what you're getting at Millie."

Mildred gestured towards the door. "She came in… through the door."

"So?" Maud was struggling to understand what her friend was getting at.

"The door Maud, she walked in. She didn't just appear out of nowhere."

Maud shrugged her shoulders. "She does that from time to time. I still don't understand what's bothering you so much."

"But she was running late," Mildred tried to press home her point.

"Silence girls," Miss Hardbroom's voice cut through the air and Mildred bit back the rest of the reply she'd been preparing to make to her friend. There was something different about HB since the half-term break, she was certain of it. She just had to find a way to prove it to Maud.

"Now I'm sure that there have been more than a few rumours flying around the place concerning the arrival of the Guild inspectors." Mildred flinched in her seat as HB's eyes automatically fixed on hers. "I don't want to hear of any of you telling tall tales to them. They are here to do a job and I want you all to co-operate with them as you would with any member of staff."

Ethel raised a hand.

"What is it Ethel?"

"Is it true that they're here to close the school down?"

Constance pursed her lips. "I can see that the rumour mill is running at full speed. No Ethel, the inspectors are not here to close the school. As Miss Cackle told you, they are here to make sure that there is nothing amiss with the magic within the school."

"What did happen during parents' evening Miss?" Ethel asked.

"As I'm sure you are all now perfectly aware, a letter was sent out to all the parents, informing them of the events that occurred. Now is neither the time nor the place to indulge in pointless chatter on the subject. There are ingredients set out on the benches in front of you and I'd like you to carry out the set potion without fuss and more importantly, without unnecessary noise."

"Miss?" Enid raised her hand and waited for Miss Hardbroom to acknowledge her.

"What is it Enid?"

"The cauldrons Miss…you haven't lit the fire beneath them." Enid's voice had a slightly puzzled tone.

Constance let out a small impatient sigh. "I'm sure that as second years, you are more than capable of lighting them yourselves….I take it you all know how to safely use a box of matches?"

"Yes Miss," Enid replied hesitantly; she had grown so accustomed to HB magically lighting the cauldrons that this sudden change in procedure had unsettled her. By the low muttering and glances being exchanged between the other students in the class, she realised that she wasn't the only one who greeted this change to the routine with more than a little surprise.

Constance glared as she heard the low murmuring in the room. "I'm sure we can all light a fire without having a discussion about it."

Maud was not unduly surprised when Mildred nudged her and whispered 'I told you' in her ear. She sighed; she really needed to sit down and have a serious chat with Mildred about what had happened to her during parents' evening; it had obviously affected her more than she realised.

* * *

Hortense stood in the corridor and listened to the sounds of the school. All around her she could hear the whisper of magic in the air.

She shook off memories of her own school days and squared her shoulders; there was work to be done.

She pushed open the door to the library and noted the way that the two girls inside immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. Their body language spoke clearly of hostility

"This is a study period," the first girl told her, failing to disguise her tone of annoyance.

"I am well aware of the intricacies of the school timetable," Hortense assured her.

"That is how I knew that I would find you here." She smiled thinly at them. "Which one of you is Griselda Blackwood?"

"I am," the second of the girls answered.

"And I'm Fenella Feverfew," the first told her grudgingly.

Hortense nodded politely at them. "I think that you and I need to have a little chat about the things that have been going on within the school."

Fenny and Gris exchanged glances, uncertain as to whether they should demand that a member of staff be present.

Hortense saw the apprehension on their faces and smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "There's nothing to worry about girls; as senior members of the school you are better placed to give me a fair report on the workings of the academy."

She gestured towards a table. "If the two of you would care to take a seat, I believe there are a great many things we need to discuss."


	8. Chapter 8

**_Apologies for the long delay between posts. _**

* * *

Miss Cackle took a deep breath and pushed open the staff room door. As soon as there was a wide enough gap, she stuck her head round and checked out just who was in the room.

Spying only Imogen, she let out a sigh and pushed the door open fully.

"It's getting so that I don't feel comfortable walking around my own school," she admitted as she headed for the urn in the far corner of the room.

"I know what you mean," Imogen sympathised. "They've only been here three days but I keep expecting Hortense to pop up in the middle of one of my lessons to tell me that I'm doing something that will irretrievably damage the development of the pupils….Not that she'd take an interest in anything I was doing," Imogen added, as she placed the magazine she'd been reading down on the arm of her chair. "What are they after?"

Amelia took a place at the window and gazed out across the courtyard. "They do seem to be going about their business with a certain ruthless efficiency," she mused. "I'm sure it's all for the good though."

"What?" Imogen's tone was incredulous. "You can't mean that."

Amelia turned to regard the young teacher. "I know it may seem a little harsh but it's probably no bad thing that the school has a magical stock take." She pulled her glasses from their case and rubbed at one of the lenses. "Things have been a little…interesting around here in recent weeks."

"But what if they try and close us down?"

Amelia frowned. "Hortense stated that that wasn't an aim of hers, but I don't like the way that she has been conducting her interviews."

Imogen sat forward in her seat, surprised that Miss Cackle was finally saying something negative about their two visitors. For the past three days Amelia had done nothing but make excuses for them and their actions.

"What sort of questions have they asked you?"

Amelia regarded her colleague for a few moments, debating whether or not she should discuss the matter. "Miss Spellbinder seems particularly interested in the events surrounding parents evening. She seems to have a great deal of interest in Constance's actions, whilst Miss Hyssop seems to have a thing about plumbers."

Imogen raised her eyebrows at the last part of the sentence. "I'm not certain that Miss Hyssop is really all that aware of what's going on around her," she confessed.

"She does seem very easily distracted," Amelia agreed. "I seem to recall a letter that was circulated recently from the Guild, telling us all about her impending retirement." She paused as a thought struck her. "I hope I haven't missed the deadline for contributing to her collection."

Imogen raised an eyebrow at the comment before looking around, double checking that they really were on their own. "Have you managed to find out anymore about the relationship between Constance and Hortense? I thought the two of them were going to trade blows when they first met."

Amelia shook her head. "I've not seen much of Constance since the arrival of the inspectors. Every free moment in my day seems to be spent trying to explain to them why things ended up the way they did during parents' evening."

Imogen frowned. "Has Constance even had a meeting with the inspectors yet? I would have thought that she'd be on the top of their list of people to talk to, what with her being the only person who really knows what went on that night."

Amelia thought about it for a moment or two. "I don't believe that she has spoken with them."

"I'd give anything to be a fly on the wall during her meeting with Hortense," Imogen admitted.

"A fly?" Amelia questioned, making her way over to the table to join her colleague. "Why on earth would you want to be a fly? All that buzzing and flying around in circles; it's enough to drive you mad."

Imogen smiled and reflected that sometimes it was difficult having a conversation with someone who could probably turn themselves into a fly without much thought.

"I just meant that I'd love to hear what's said between the two of them. It's pretty obvious that they don't have much time for each other."

"That's true, but I don't imagine that Constance will let anything get to her."

"I wouldn't be so sure; Verna told me that Hortense and Constance were polls apart at the WTC. I get the feeling that Hortense is somewhat jealous of Constance. I think she'd try anything to get under Constance's skin."

"Oh come now," Amelia chided her colleague. "I can't imagine that Hortense would do something like that. She may be a little...over zealous... in her approach to her job, but at the end of the day she is a professional," she paused. "And a Spellbinder."

Imogen frowned. "Meaning?"

Amelia took a deep breath. "The Spellbinders have always been one of the most successful witch families in the country. Their history can be traced back hundreds of years. If there's something historically important that involves a witch, you can guarantee that a Spellbinder will have been there."

"I wonder if one of them ever had a house fall on them," Imogen muttered beneath her breath. She ignored the look she received from Amelia and turned over the thought in her mind. "If the Spellbinders are so famous, what's one of them doing working as a Guild inspector? Shouldn't she be lording it over us with some high-powered job?"

Amelia frowned. "I rather think that Hortense is something of a disappointment to the family," she admitted. "Never really lived up to the family expectations."

"Which could result in her being more than a little jealous of someone who out-performed her at school?" Imogen suggested. She could see the look of uncertainty on Amelia's face. "But it's a possibility though," she pushed. "You've got to admit that."

"I suppose it's possible," Amelia finally conceded, but her tone showed that she was less than convinced by Imogen's theories. She regarded the young sports teacher for a moment. "I hope you don't mind me saying but you look a little tired Imogen. Is everything alright? I do hope that the thought of the school being investigated isn't causing you to lose sleep."

Imogen shrugged her shoulders. "I've had a couple of sleepless nights, that's all. I keep waking up in the early hours of the morning, my mind on full alert."

"Stress," Amelia told her firmly. "The moment that this inspection is over I'm sure that it will all pass."

Imogen thought about mentioning the feeling she had that she was being watched, but dismissed it quickly. Amelia had enough on her plate; she didn't need to think that everyone on the staff was falling apart.

* * *

Constance sat in the silence of the empty potions lab and massaged her left temple. One day, she told herself, squinting at the book in front of her, Mildred Hubble would finally write up a potion in handwriting that didn't look as though it needed a formula to translate it into English. She closed her eyes and tried to banish the specks of light that danced before her eyes.

"Am I interrupting something important?"

Constance stiffened as she recognised the smooth tones of Hortense. She opened her eyes and looked evenly at her, trying to disguise her natural dislike of the woman and her surprise that Hortense had managed to enter the room without her noticing.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked with precise clipped tones, making it clear that her visitor's presence wasn't welcome.

Hortense smiled. "I thought it was about time that you and I had a little chat."

"About what?"

"About the things that have been going on here in the past few weeks."

Constance maintained an impassive expression. "What sort of things exactly?"

"That's rather what I was hoping you would tell me," Hortense smirked. She indicated the clipboard she was carrying. "It appears that there have been some very strange things going on."

"I'm sure Miss Cackle will be more than capable of explaining things to you."

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "She seemed to imply that you were the person I should address my questions to." She smiled again. "You seem to be doing a lot of things that aren't part of the Guild's approved curriculum. I don't recall seeing conjuring a destructive magical entity as one of the recommended practical tests, nor the Forbidden Volumes on the recommended reading list. Is it that Cackle's thinks of itself as a forward centre of learning, or are there some things that really need explaining?"

Constance opened her mouth to argue but Hortense butted in.

"And don't try and tell me that the Forbidden Volumes weren't involved. I know about perception altering spells… I know the sort of books they come from and I know how dangerous they can be."

"Then you must have been studying," Constance replied evenly. "The last time we met, I don't think you could tell the difference between the ingredients for a spell and the index at the back of the book."

Hortense laughed, but there was no trace of humour in her tone. "Tread carefully," she warned Constance. "I can see to it that this miserable little academy is wiped off the face of the Earth if I see fit." She leant in. "You wouldn't want that on your conscience as well, would you?"

Constance stiffened. "Don't presume to try and intimidate me."

"I don't need to do any such thing," Hortense purred. "I just need to let your actions speak for themselves."

"Was there something specific you wanted or did you just come in here to make a nuisance of yourself?"

Hortense perched on the end of one of the desks and regarded her clipboard for a moment. "There are a lot of things here that don't add up," she announced, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her left ear. "A lot of things going on that need to be looked at carefully. I'm sure the Guild would be interested to hear that you were less than forthcoming with information."

"Very well," Constance replied coldly. "Ask your little questions."

Hortense ignored the jibe and glanced again at her clipboard as though searching for the correct topic. Her lips curled into a smile. "Perhaps you would care to tell me your version of the events that took place within the Great Hall a week ago."

Constance clicked her tongue against her teeth. "I don't know why you are so determined to blow this event up out of all proportion."

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "This isn't some little indiscretion that you can just sweep under the carpet," she warned Constance. "Someone could have been injured… or worse." She tapped her clipboard with the end of her pencil. "I suggest that you take me through the events of the evening. And I do mean every event. From what I understand of magical entities, they need a source of magic to feed on." Hortense's lips curled into a smile. "Just where did this entity find enough magic to grow?"

"This is a school for witches," Constance pointed out smoothly.

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "And you're trying to tell me that there was enough raw magic in the air to allow a magical entity to grow so large that it necessitated you putting an entire hall full of people under a freezing spell?"

Constance kept her voice level. "We had just had the 3rd year mock practical exams."

Hortense rolled her eyes. "Oh very droll. That entity had to have taken strength from somewhere."

"There was confusion in the air," Constance countered quickly. "There was magic potential at every turn."

"So…" Hortense summed up. "There was a lot of uncontrolled magic on the loose in a public area"

"If you wish to view it like that, yes," Constance confirmed. "As far as I am concerned, the important thing is that the entity was defeated and that no harm came to any member of this school."

"This time," Hortense added darkly. "What's to say that something like this won't happen again?"

Constance narrowed her eyes. "It won't happen again."

"How can you be so sure?" Hortense glanced at her clipboard before looking at Constance again. "Those books are still within the school as are the pupils who started the whole affair." She brushed at an imaginary speck on her jacket. "Surely something would be gained by moving one or both of them from the academy?"

Constance recognised the threat for what it was and chose to ignore it. "I believe your remit extends as far as finding out what happens within this school, it does not concern setting policy," she reminded Hortense smoothly.

"My remit does not prevent me from seeing what is before my eyes," she replied coldly. "You have a pupil who has broken into an area of the school she had no business being in, and cast a spell that could very easily have brought about the end of a great many lives. Excuse me if I find it a little hard to understand why she wasn't punished."

Constance bristled at the words. "She was punished."

Hortense let out a short bark of a laugh. "A few hundred lines and an essay! You think that suitable punishment for bringing chaos down upon the school?"

"I have the distinct advantage over you in that I was there during the evening, whilst you, I believe, were not. I feel therefore that I am in a better position to decide what, if any, punishment should be set."

The edges of Hortense's mouth curled into a smile. "Well, that's very interesting." She tapped the pencil upon her clipboard again. "What's so special about Mildred Hubble that you let her off so lightly?"

Constance snorted. "Stop trying to find intrigue where there isn't any. Mildred Hubble stepped out of line and she was punished. I fail to see what the problem is."

"And I fail to see why you didn't act according to the guidelines set down by the Witches' Guild. Any witch who is caught endangering the life of anyone else should be treated in a far more serious manner."

"Mildred may have acted in a very reckless manner but she also helped to bring the situation back under control. I think she should get a little credit for that."

"Oh really? From what I've seen and read; you're the last person I expected to see standing up for that particular pupil."

"Unlike you, Hortense Spellbinder, I'm not one to hold a grudge."

Hortense tipped her head back and laughed. "Constance Hardbroom, the girl who spent three years treating those around her as though they were no more than mud beneath her feet."

Constance sighed. "That's not true Hortense Spellbinder and you know it. Just because I wasn't interested in joining your little gang..."

Hortense shook her head. "You were always so superior Constance, so determined to set yourself apart from everyone else. I wonder what happened to you to cause you to end up in this little backwater." She gestured around at the room. "I mean it's not exactly the future that was planned out for you."

"The difference is that I'm happy with my chosen profession, can you honestly say the same?"

Hortense opened her mouth to reply but didn't get the chance as Miss Cackle bustled into the room.

She looked between the two witches, not seeming to notice the tension that was in the air.

"I need your help," she told them breathlessly. "Miss Bat and Miss Hyssop are presently flying around the walls of the castle; I'm rather afraid that one of them is going to fall and have an accident."

Miss Hardbroom turned to Amelia, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Davina offered Miss Hyssop a medicinal glass of sherry; it all got rather out of hand after that," Amelia explained.

"Well I'm not putting her to bed this time," Constance told Amelia firmly as she rose to her feet, all thoughts of her conversation with Hortense forgotten. "Is there any chance that we can keep this from the girls?"

Amelia winced. "I'm rather afraid that their whooping and cheering has attracted rather a lot of attention."

Constance sighed heavily and strode purposefully towards the doors. "Sometimes I swear that woman is more trouble than all the girls put together."

Amelia smiled apologetically at Hortense before bustling out of the room after her deputy.

Hortense watched them go and allowed a small smile to spring to her lips; she'd known that it was going to be difficult to pin the blame for recent events upon Constance's shoulders, but if her former classmate was going to leap to the defence of her pupils at the drop of a hat, then there was perhaps a bigger window of opportunity than she'd originally envisaged.


	9. Chapter 9

Enid stood in the courtyard and shivered in the cold early morning air. She rubbed her hands together, hoping to get some life back into them and then blew on her frozen fingers. She'd never really understood the importance of cross-country running. She'd tried to discuss the matter with Miss Drill but had received nothing but a firm glare and an order to simply get on with the course.

She understood that to be able to cover 100 metres or 200 metres was a useful skill but, as she'd mentioned to Miss Drill, if you needed to run 3000 metres to catch a bus, you were probably better off waiting for the next one.

"This is ridiculous," she heard Maud mutter and turned her head to see what had annoyed her friend.

Striding towards them was Miss Spellbinder; her clipboard in her hand as usual.

"What's she going to do?" Enid whispered. "Join in with us?"

Maud smiled. "I can't imagine Miss Spellbinder wanting to get a hair out of place. Surely she can't find something wrong with the way Miss Drill runs her lessons."

"If it means that we get to spend the morning indoors rather than tramping around the countryside in the freezing cold, then I hope Miss Spellbinder does complain," Enid said decisively.

"I get really nervous every time I see her making notes on that clipboard of hers," Mildred confessed, joining in the conversation. "I keep imagining that she's taking notes on everything I do."

Maud looked sympathetically at her friend. "Not every thing that happens in this school is your fault," she assured her.

"That's enough chatter girls," Miss Drill chided her pupils. "If you spent as much energy on running as you do on talking, then I'm sure you'd get round the course in a much quicker time."

"Sorry Miss," Maud apologised.

Imogen turned her attention to the advancing inspector and tried to keep her expression neutral.

"Miss Spellbinder," she greeted the blonde haired woman as politely as she could.

"As much as it pains me to say this," Hortense began dryly, forgoing the courtesy of acknowledging the greeting. "You and I need to have a little talk."

Imogen gestured towards the girls. "I am a little busy at present Miss Spellbinder. Couldn't this wait until later?"

Hortense sighed impatiently. "If that were the case, would I have come to see you now?"

Imogen frowned. "As I said, I am busy at the moment."

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "It's not as though you're doing something that couldn't be put off until later," she argued. "…or removed from the curriculum entirely without anyone batting an eyelid. Do you want me to report back stating that the staff here are unwilling to co-operate?"

Sighing heavily, Imogen realised that Hortense had the edge. She didn't want to be the reason that the school received a bad report from the inspectors. She glanced at her watch. "I can spare you a few minutes," she grudgingly agreed. "Just let me get this group set up."

"Very well."

Imogen turned back to face her pupils and saw the expectation on their faces. She had been considering cancelling the run, but the looks on their faces made her determined to see them complete the course. Hers was not a subject that could be dismissed out of hand.

"Maud; I want you to lead the way though the wood. You've run the route before so there's no excuse." She turned to leave but was struck by a thought. "I don't want to hear tales of you getting lost and ending up at Cosie's," she warned them. "Mrs Cosie does talk to us you know."

"Yes Miss," Maud acknowledged, privately wishing that Miss Drill had picked one of the others to be in charge. Making your friends run through miles of undergrowth was not the way to make them happy.

Satisfied that the girls were going to get the exercise they needed, Imogen turned back to Miss Spellbinder. "I do hope you'll keep this brief," she smiled. "It's just that I have a lot to do."

She was waiting for some snide retort from the Guild Inspector and was somewhat surprised when the taller woman simply took a pace back and gestured towards the main building.

"I think perhaps we should retire to somewhere warmer," she suggested.

"Rather than carry on the conversation out here where any number of flapping ears could hear us."

Imogen grudgingly agreed that she had a point and led the way to the warmth of Miss Cackle's office.

* * *

"I have it on good authority that two teachers from this school were very interested in certain personnel files that were stored at the WTC," Hortense began smoothly as she took a seat behind Miss Cackle's desk. "Those files have since disappeared. Would you perhaps have any comment to make Miss Drill?"

Imogen picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her tracksuit top. I don't know what you're talking about."

Hortense smiled. "Of course you don't, but just for a moment entertain the notion that you do. Tell me what you think two members of staff would want with the file of a colleague?"

Imogen's face flushed red with embarrassment but she remained silent.

"I'm sure Davina has told you all about her good friend Beatrice," Hortense pressed the matter further. "I should hate to see the same thing happen to dear Miss Bat."

Imogen's senses were immediately on the alert. "Leave Davina alone," she warned. "It had nothing to do with her."

"To be cast out of the Guild at her age and not have the benefit of a pension to see her through the cold days ahead," Hortense tipped her head slightly to one side. "It would be such a terrible shame."

"You wouldn't do such a thing?" Imogen questioned. "She's done nothing to you."

Hortense stared down at her immaculately manicured fingernails. "If I were to find out that Miss Bat were responsible for the removal of confidential files from the WTC, I would have no other option but to dismiss her from her post and instruct the Guild to suspend her membership. We can't very well have lawbreakers within the education system Miss Drill."

"It had nothing to do with Davina," Imogen persisted. "It was…."

Hortense raised a hand, silencing the angry games teacher. "Just tell me what happened," she requested dryly. "You can leave out the histrionics. I want to know what you did with the files and I want to know everything that happened during parents evening." She tapped the end of her pencil on the clipboard. "Leave anything out and I can promise you that there will be a new chanting teacher at Cackles next term."

Imogen glared at Hortense. "You can't do that?"

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "Says who? It's well within my jurisdiction to make recommendations to the Guild. If I were to report back that this school panders to a deluded old woman who spends most of her free time skulking in a stationary cupboard and the rest of it flying around the castle on her broom singing songs from The Sound of Music, I'm sure that the Guild wouldn't hesitate to make a few changes." She leant forward and regarded Imogen carefully. "I want to know exactly what you read within that file; I want to know every word."

"I'm sorry?"

Hortense reached into the pocket of her jacket and with a flourish pulled out a handkerchief. Imogen watched it and caught sight of a fine white powder that floated into the air.

"Sorry about this," Hortense apologised, "but I do need to know everything."

Imogen's expression was one of confusion as the fine powder fell around her. Moments later she blinked and looked blankly at Hortense.

Hortense smiled as the powder took effect. "You will forget everything about this meeting," she purred. "Once you leave this room, you will remember only the first two minutes of our conversation." She paused and leant in towards Imogen. "Do you understand me?"

Imogen nodded dumbly.

"Good, now Imogen I want to know everything you read in Constance's file. I want to know every detail, every last word. Do I make myself clear?"

Imogen nodded again.

"Well then..." Hortense prompted after a few moments. "What can you tell me?"

Imogen shrugged. "I don't remember reading it."

"What? Damn," Hortense banged her hand down hard on the desk. "This stuff's supposed to be strong." She pushed her hands through her hair as she tried to think of what to do next. "Tell me everything you know about Constance Hardbroom. Tell me everything that's happened since you first came to this school."

She stared at the games teacher. "Well, have you nothing to say?"

Imogen looked at her blankly. "Where do I begin?"

Hortense smiled. "Let's start with your first day."

* * *

Enid collapsed to the ground as she finally entered the courtyard again. Her heart was hammering inside of her chest and her limbs felt like lead.

"You're a real martinet," she puffed at Maud, squinting up at her friend.

"You can say that again," Jadu wheezed as she bent over, trying to catch her breath.

"No I can't," Enid disagreed. "I haven't got the energy."

Maud held a hand to the stitch she had in her side and regarded her friends. She liked to think that all she had done for the past hour was encourage them all to complete the course.

"I wasn't that bad, was I?" she questioned nervously.

"You made Belinda Briarswood do 20 press-ups for stopping," Enid pointed out. "I'd call that a little harsh."

"She was cheating," Maud protested but Ruby shook her head.

"She's got asthma; she was just stopping to use her inhaler!"

"Oh." Maud looked down at her feet.

Ruby looked around at the rest of the class who were all in various stages of collapse.

"Where's Mildred?"

Jadu pointed towards Walkers Gate. "She got stuck in a bramble patch and then fell into a puddle; she can't be that far behind us."

Enid considered the matter for a couple of seconds. "She did better than usual," she finally decided and rolled onto her side in time to see Mildred stagger into the courtyard. "Good grief," she muttered. "It's the creature from the black lagoon."

All heads turned to look at Mildred and the state that she was in. She was soaked from head to foot, had brambles caught in her hair and shirt and a face that was liberally streaked with dirt.

She finally made it across to her friends and promptly collapsed in a heap.

"Are you alright?" Maud asked tentatively.

Mildred nodded and a surprised looking frog jumped out of the tangle of brambles on Mildred's head.

"You could have waited for me," she exclaimed between breaths.

"Sorry," Ruby apologised. "I did try to slow down but Maud started prodding me in the back with a stick, telling me to stop slacking off."

Maud starred intently at her shoes again, her face turning a bright shade of red.

"I hate being put in charge," she confessed. "It always makes me nervous."

"If that's you being nervous," Enid remarked. "I should hate to see you when you're brimming with confidence!"

Maud was saved from replying as a shrill blast from a whistle filled the air and caused everyone to fall silent.

"Thank heavens," Maud muttered under her breath. "Miss Drill's back."

"Ladies, ladies," a voice with a distinctly Scottish burr filled the air. "What are you all doing out here? You're supposed to be in the potions lab working on the exam that I set you."

Mildred and her friends exchanged confused glances. Turning their heads they caught sight of Miss Hyssop making her way towards them, her white hair billowing behind her.

"What's she on about?" Enid hissed. "We don't have any lessons with her."

"I'll ask," Mildred volunteered. "I think she likes me."

Mildred stepped forward, trying to ignore the pond weed that was dripping down her back.

"Miss Hyssop," she began cautiously. "What makes you think that we should be in your lesson?"

"Well Tilly," Miss Hyssop replied smoothly. "It is Thursday afternoon and we always have potions on a Thursday afternoon."

There were stifled giggles from the rest of the girls which Mildred did her best to ignore.

"My name's not Tilly Miss, it's Mildred. And it's Wednesday morning not Thursday afternoon."

"And you don't take us for potions," Maud added.

Miss Hyssop regarded the group for a few moments before smiling. "Yes yes, very good class two but it won't work with me. Standing out here in your gym kit and pretending that you've just run for miles is not going to get you out of the work that you should be doing."

"But Miss…"

"What is it Tilly?"

Mildred sighed. "My name's not Tilly Miss," she explained again. "And you are not our potions teacher. You're an inspector from the Witches' Guild."

"Pfffff," Verna waved the thought away. "What a ridiculous notion. Why on Earth would you think that I was a member of that bunch of old stuffed shirts? Now I've had enough of your clowning class two; come along inside before I decide to turn you into hedgehogs and set you the task of navigating your way across a busy street."

The girls exchanged glances again, unsure of what to do.

"Very well," Verna remarked, rolling up her sleeves. "Since you are all being so obstinate."

"I think we'd better do what she says," Maud whispered. "I'm not convinced she wouldn't do it."

"I'll try and get to Miss Cackle," Mildred nodded, "She should be able to sort this out."

Slowly the girls began to troop towards the main entrance. Miss Hyssop watched them go; carefully keeping an eye on them in case they should decide to attempt anything else.

"Miss?" Mildred came to a halt in front of her. "Do you mind if I go and change?"

Verna looked the young girl up and down and took in her bedraggled state.

"I would say that was a very good idea Tilly, you look as though you've been dragged through a hedge backwards."

"Thanks Miss."

"It wasn't a compliment Tilly!" Verna told her with a frown on her face.

Mildred decided that it was best not to pursue the matter and dashed off in search of Miss Cackle.

* * *

Amelia raised her head from her hands as she heard frantic knocking on the door of the office. She groaned inwardly; what she really wanted now was some peace and quiet. Was there, she wondered, some grand scheme that the universe had devised to prevent her from ever having a few moments to herself?

She sat back in her chair and composed herself, all the while the knocking on the door continued unabated.

"Come in," she called out, already fairly certain that she knew who was behind the knocking. She was therefore not unduly surprised when the door opened and a very bedraggled looking Mildred Hubble entered the room, pond weed dripping from her hair onto the freshly scrubbed stone flags of her office.

"What is it this time Mildred," she asked, trying to keep the dismay from her voice.

"It's …it's…"

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "It's what exactly Mildred?"

She watched as the young girl pulled a face, obviously finding it hard to find the right words.

"It's a falling out amongst class two?" There was no look of agreement so she tried again. "You've just blown something up that you shouldn't have? You took a wrong turn once again during the cross country?"

"Yes Miss….well that is yes Miss and no Miss."

Amelia sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "In what way is it 'yes Miss and no Miss' Mildred?"

"I did take the wrong turning during cross country," the young witch confessed with a bashful expression on her face. "But that's not why I'm here." She paused and her face took on a decidedly uncomfortable expression. "It's Miss Hyssop," she finally confessed. "She seems to think that she should be taking us for potions and has ordered the rest of the class to the potions lab."

"Oh good grief." Amelia covered her face with her hands and tried to breathe deeply for a few seconds.

"Miss?"

She heard the concerned tones of Mildred and forced herself to sit upright.

"Come along then Mildred," she smiled, hoping that the fake smile was convincing at least one of them in the room. "I think we'd better go and have a chat with Miss Hyssop."

* * *

Hortense entered the staff room and looked around, trying to spot her latest quarry. She'd made certain that she'd read up on the principal members of staff she was unacquainted with and was fairly sure that she knew where Miss Bat would be at this particular moment.

She tapped gently on the door to the stationary cupboard and waited for an answer. When none was forthcoming, she repeated the action.

"Miss Bat," she called out, "You and I really need to sit down and have a talk. We can do it here, or I can insist that you come to Miss Cackle's office and we'll do it in a more formal manner...without the strawberries."

"Mmuummpphhh?" came the muffled voice from the cupboard. "Murph mmmummmphh?"

"Yes," Hortense assured her. "There's cream as well."

The door to the cupboard opened a fraction and Davina's nose poked through the small gap.

"It's good to finally track you down Miss Bat," Hortense told Davina warmly. "I've been so looking forward to having this little chat with you."

"Really?" Davina fluttered nervously, trying to ignore the fact that her head was still thumping to a most unmusical beat.

"Let me first reassure you that I don't care a jot about the minor indiscretion that your old friend Beatrice was found guilty of," she purred. "That really isn't a concern of mine. I just want to talk to you about the things that have been happening here in the past few weeks." Hortense turned on her heel and walked over to the table by the window. "It would really be a shame to waste these strawberries."

Hortense failed to suppress a smile as she heard the creak as the cupboard door was opened further.

A moment later Davina was taking a seat at the table and looking longingly at the bowl of strawberries that were placed in front of her.

"Please, help yourself," Hortense told her, gesturing towards the huge bowl. "I can't bear to watch good food going to waste."

With a movement faster than Hortense thought possible, Davina reached out and pulled the bowl towards her. Moments later she was shovelling them into her mouth as though she'd not eaten in weeks.

"So, how would you describe your relationship with Constance?" Hortense asked gently.

"My what…?" Davina asked through a mouthful of strawberries.

"Your relationship with Miss Hardbroom. I imagine that she must be less than understanding towards a woman of your…delicate nature."

"Oh well .er…" Davina fluttered, waving her spoon around.

"Don't worry," Hortense assured her, a gleam in her eye. "Everything said here will be treated in the strictest confidence."

Davina glanced nervously around before taking another mouthful of strawberries.

"I've been speaking to Miss Cackle and she seems to be a little confused as to some of the things that have been happening here in the past few weeks." Hortense leaned in conspiratorially, trying to ignore the spots of cream that now covered the table. "Perhaps you could help to clear a few things up for me. Someone of your undoubted intelligence must have noticed the goings on."

"Oh well ... really I ….now you come to mention it…." Davina looked around again. "I do see some things that no-one else believes."

Hortense smiled widely at Davina and leaned in closer.

* * *

Amelia placed an arm around Verna's shoulder and gently led her out of the classroom. It had taken her a good ten minutes to convince the elderly witch that she wasn't supposed to be taking a potions lesson, and even now she wasn't certain that her words had been fully understood.

"Perhaps you'd like a nice cup of tea and a sit down in the staff room?" she suggested hopefully.

Verna nodded absently. "That seems like a good idea Beryl."

Amelia thought twice about correcting Verna but then decided that it probably wasn't worth the effort.

"Shouldn't you be in a class somewhere?"

"Sorry?"

"A classroom," Verna repeated. "One of those places where you go to learn things…Shouldn't you be running along to yours now, before you're missed?"

"I don't think that's going to be a problem," Amelia replied carefully, not wanting to upset Verna any further.

Verna looked her up and down. "You're not exactly a spring chicken you know…you are a little, how shall we say….mature…to be a student here, but I'm sure if you apply yourself that you'll graduate eventually."

Amelia bristled at the words but tried to keep a smile on her face. "I'm not a pupil here," she explained with as much patience as she could muster. "I'm the headmistress."

"Really? So why are you asking me where your next class is?"

Amelia sighed. "I wasn't. How about I take you to the staff room now? You can have a little rest there and perhaps a nice cup of tea."

Not waiting for Verna to say anything else, Amelia began shepherding her down the corridor.

* * *

Hortense pushed the empty bowl across the table and tried to ignore the sticky fingerprints that were all over the sheets of paper pinned to her clipboard. Whilst it had been a very interesting chat with Davina Bat, it had also been a surprisingly messy one. Hortense couldn't recall the chanting teacher ever touching the sheaf of papers but, one way or another, they had been stained with strawberries.

She turned her head as the door to the staff room opened and frantically pulled the clipboard towards her chest, desperate to keep her findings to herself.

She heard the gentle reassuring tones of Amelia Cackle, and moments later watched her lead a slightly confused looking Verna into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt," Amelia apologised as she guided the older witch in the direction of the table. "But Miss Hyssop seems to have become a little confused as to why she's here within the school."

"What did she do this time?"

"I found her attempting to take class two for potions."

Amelia pulled out a chair and motioned for Verna to take a seat.

"Is it alright if I leave her with you?"

"Of course," Hortense told her sharply. "I wouldn't want to keep you."

Patting Verna gently on the arm, Amelia left the room.

Satisfied that she'd gone, Hortense glared at Verna.

"It's getting so that I can't trust you to do anything."

"What's that dear?" Verna asked her, seemingly distracted by something.

"What have you been doing whilst I've been busy finding out what's going on in this school?"

"Sorry dear?"

Hortense sighed, realising that she was wasting her breath. She turned her attention back to her clipboard and began re-reading the top sheet of strawberry stained notes.

After a minute of staring into the distance, Verna shook her head and glanced around the room. She coughed, sniffed and then rubbed her hands together, her eyes once again sparkling with life.

"I'm really starting to like this place, she confessed. "The pupils are friendly and, despite the state of the Great Hall, I'm really starting to enjoy mealtimes."

"Hmmm, Hortense acknowledged Verna but didn't really pay any attention to what she was saying.

"I don't know what the Guild has made all that fuss about, Verna continued. "OK, so there maybe a little mayhem, a little bit of extra-curricular magic, but it's all pretty harmless. The sort of thing that we…." she paused and looked at Hortense. "**I** would have gotten up to at school," she amended.

Hortense clicked her tongue against her teeth and finally gave her attention to Verna.

"Is that all you have done during your time here?" she questioned. "Wasted your time in idle prattling with the pupils?"

"I do not consider it a waste of time," Verna retorted hotly. "A lot can be learnt from listening to the views of the young."

"And what about trying to teach them?"

Verna looked at her with a confused expression.

"I wouldn't know anything about that; I gave up teaching years ago. I've found that you learn a great deal more if you actually listen to the girls, rather than trying to teach them anything."

Hortense thought about it for a moment and then leant forward, steepling her fingers.

"Tell me what the young of this school have to say Verna. Tell me all that they told you."

* * *

As night settled upon the castle, a solitary figure was hiding in the shadows, waiting until they could be certain that no-one else was prowling around in the area.

Once satisfied that they were alone, they slunk across the corridor and pushed open the door to the Great Hall, wincing as it creaked noisily.

Finally, reassured that no-one was about to appear on the scene to investigate the sound, they pushed the door a little wider and slipped into the silent hall.

Moonlight streamed in through the windows, lighting the room up as though it were daytime.

Almost immediately, the figure sensed that there was another presence; a something in the air that shouldn't be there.

"I've been hearing a lot about you," the woman whispered into the stillness of the room. "I've heard a little about what you can do."

She turned her head, hoping to catch a flash of light. "It's alright," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "I'm not here to get rid of you, quite the opposite in fact."

She stood in the centre of the hall and peered into the shadows that formed in the corners of the room.

"I think you can help me," she confessed. "I think that you and I can work together."

She paused again, hoping for a response. "I know you're still here and I know that we can do business."

In the farthest corner of the room the silence was disturbed by a slight crackle of energy.

The woman smiled and hoped that the remnant of the entity was interested in the deal she was about to propose.

* * *

Constance looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece above the fire and sighed impatiently. Lessons were due to start in the next five minutes and she didn't want to spend the rest of the day trying to catch up. She glared around at the other members of staff as though it were in some way their fault that the meeting had been called.

She turned her head towards the door as she heard it open. Amelia smiled apologetically at them before stepping into the room and revealing Hortense in the doorway behind her.

"I'm sorry to mess around with the start to your busy day," Hortense apologised smoothly, although her manner suggested that she wasn't in the least contrite. "It's just that I felt that this matter couldn't wait any further."

"And what 'matter' would that be?" Constance wanted to know, ignoring the look that Amelia was giving her.

Hortense smiled and made her way into the room. She held up a roll of parchment that she was carrying in her right hand. "I have here the considered verdict from the members of the Witches' Guild. I couriered them a copy of my report and they felt it necessary to call an emergency meeting late last night."

Constance narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the news.

"Was that really necessary?" Amelia asked tentatively, her natural respect for the Guild somewhat tempered by what she saw as the over-reactions of Hortense.

"I thought it was absolutely necessary and the members of the Guild agreed with me," Hortense replied frostily. "This was sent via special messenger this morning." She cleared her throat and broke the seal on the parchment before unrolling it. "The Witches' Guild hereby places Cackle's Academy under an immediate magical lockdown. There will be no casting of spells or incantations, no brewing of new potions or use of existing potions, no magical activity whatsoever until such a time that the guild permits it. Any witch, and I do mean **any** witch, caught breaking this edict will be hauled before the Guild and runs the risk of having her witch status removed. There are no exceptions to this mandate and any breach of it will be punished with the full power the Guild possesses." She lowered the parchment and looked around at the stunned expressions on the faces of the room's occupants. "Now, are there any questions?"


	10. Chapter 10

Imogen stared at door to the staff room, as it swung closed. When she was satisfied that Hortense had left the room, she swung back to face the others.

"She can't do that. Surely you can protest?"

Imogen was somewhat surprised when no response was immediately forthcoming. She scanned the expressions on the faces of her colleagues. Amelia seemed to be in something of a state of shock; Davina was chewing nervously on what looked suspiciously like one of the first year's homework books. Only Constance retained her usual impassive expression. Imogen directed her comments towards the tall potions teacher who was standing next to the fireplace.

"You are going to do something to get this lockdown lifted, aren't you?"

Constance turned her head slowly and regarded Imogen. "The Witches' Guild is the highest witch authority in the country Miss Drill. We are bound to obey its decisions."

"You're just going to take this sitting down?" Imogen's voice was one of complete disbelief. "You're not going to fight against it?"

"Fight against it?" There was amusement in Constance's tone. "You make it sound as though it's an enemy that needs defeating."

"But…" Imogen struggled to find a way to express herself clearly. "They can't just stop your magic, surely?"

"I'm afraid that they can." Amelia finally found her voice and replied shakily to Imogen's question. "If they see fit, then they can do whatever they want."

"And you're prepared to just sit there and take it?"

"I don't see that there's much else that we can do."

"You can tell the Witches' Guild that Hortense's report isn't accurate. You can tell them about the exceptional circumstances of the past few weeks," she argued.

"Oh I see," Constance's voice cut through the air like a knife. "You think that we should voluntarily tell them that the school was nearly overrun by a magical entity because one of our second year pupils managed to lay her hands on a very powerful perception altering spell, only didn't read the small print." Constance narrowed her eyes. "My, what a wonderful idea; I can't believe that one of us didn't think of it sooner!"

"Ladies, ladies," Amelia tried to stop the argument that was brewing. "Nothing is to be gained by fighting amongst ourselves. If we are to overturn this lockdown, we are going to have to follow the rules and play things their way. I suggest we call an emergency assembly in the Great Hall and explain things to the girls."

Constance frowned. "You're not going to tell them everything, surely?"

Amelia shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "We have to make sure that no-one uses magic until the ban is officially lifted. If, as I suspect, that one or more of the girls' parents are behind the Guild investigation, then I'm sure that a short period of non-magical activity will result in some very unhappy calls home." Amelia paused thoughtfully. "Make sure that everyone has access to Cosie's Café this week. I want them all to have ample opportunity to phone home."

"Well really," Constance objected, more out of habit than actual disagreement with Amelia's idea.

"Now if everyone would go to their usual classes and inform all pupils that I wish to see them in the Great Hall at 10 o'clock…" Amelia let the sentence die away and waited for her staff to move. Davina shot straight for the cupboard but Imogen caught the sleeve of the chanting teacher as she attempted to dash past.

"We have to be strong," Amelia heard Imogen telling Davina as she dragged her from the room, the chanting teacher looking longingly over her shoulder as she was pulled through the doorway.

Amelia turned her head and saw that Constance was still leaning up against the mantelpiece.

"I don't know what else to do Constance," she admitted. "We can't go against the Guild. I can't be responsible for all our girls losing their witch status before any of them have really had the chance to practice."

Constance cleared her throat. "Perhaps it would be politic for me to tender my resignation at this point. I get the distinct impression that Hortense Spellbinder is determined to see that we are hauled over the coals for the catastrophe that was parents' evening."

"There will be no talk of resignation," Amelia told Constance firmly. "We will see what the Guild intend to do and I'm sure we will ride this out."

Constance met Miss Cackle's gaze but found that she couldn't share the optimism of her colleague.

* * *

There was a nervous air of expectation within the Great Hall. All the pupils were gathered together and were intrigued to know what was going on. They had been told that lessons were suspended for the morning and that they were to make their way to the Great Hall. No more details were forthcoming, despite the plaintive questioning that had ensued.

An expectant hush fell upon the assembled hall as Miss Cackle stepped up to the front of the stage

"I have in my hand a piece of paper…" Amelia began, feeling her voice already beginning to shake. She steeled her nerves and ran back over the speech that she had spent the last few minutes desperately trying to prepare. "This parchment comes directly from the Witches' Guild and all witches are to follow its instructions to the letter."

Amelia looked down at the faces of her pupils and felt her resolve break. The paper felt unnaturally heavy in her hand and she found that she was unable to continue. She was grateful when Constance rose to her feet and took the roll of parchment from her.

"The Witches' Guild has decreed that this school needs to be placed in quarantine. That means that no magic will be cast by any member of the school, be they pupil or teacher until such time that the Guild sees fit to raise the order."

Constance paused as the murmuring in the hall reached a deafening pitch.

"This rule will come into force as of now." Constance's voice cut cleanly through the chatter and the pupils immediately fell into silence. "I'm sure that all of you will have questions you want answered but I'm afraid that at the present time there is nothing more we can tell you. The Guild have delivered their verdict and we will stand by what they have said. This is not a permanent state of affairs and we will just all have to come to terms with doing things without the aid of magic until this matter is resolved."

"But this is a school for witches."

Constance's head snapped in the direction of Griselda who had spoken. "I am well aware of that fact Griselda Blackwood. And if we hope to remain as one we will have to follow the rules of the Guild and wait for them to realise that there is no reason for this embargo to remain."

Constance looked out at the sea of faces and took in the conflicting emotions on the faces of the girls.

"This is not a permanent state of affairs," she assured the group. "We will come through this. We only ask that you respect the decision of the Guild and don't try anything foolish." Constance found that her eyes had settled on Mildred Hubble. "I don't want to hear of anyone breaking the embargo. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Miss Hardbroom," the girls chorused as one.

"Good," Constance told them firmly. "I'm glad we understand each other."

* * *

Mildred paced back and forth across her room; Enid and Maud watched her progress from the window.

"There must be something we can do," she finally muttered.

"I don't see what," Enid told her friend flatly. "I mean, I don't like this situation any more than you do but there's nothing we can do. This order did come from the Witches' Guild."

"But not to practice any magic," Mildred protested. "I'm behind in potions as it is, if we're forced to miss more than a few lessons I just know that I'll flunk my end of year exam." She dropped back onto her bed and earned a surprised mew from Tabby who had been peacefully sleeping until woken by being lifted briefly into the air.

"It does seem a rather harsh thing to do," Maud conceded. "It looks as though Miss Spellbinder is really out to make a name for herself."

"I wonder what Cackle's has done to register on her radar?" Mildred mused, watching as Tabby prowled around the bed and looked for somewhere safer to sleep.

"I heard from Fenny that there's some kind of history between HB and Spellbinder," Enid revealed to the other two. "The rumour among the 3rd years is that they were at college together." Enid pulled a face. "I'm sorry I just can't imagine HB as young. I'd swear she was born at her current age."

"Which is?" Maud wanted to know.

"Halfway between over the hill and dead," Enid suggested with a smile on her face.

Tabby pushed his head under Mildred's hand and demanded some attention. Mildred pulled him onto her lap and was rewarded with a loud purr of contentment.

"How's Tabby going to get better on my broom if we can't do any magic?" She looked at the confused expression on the faces of her two friends. "Seeing as the brooms are magical, I imagine that they will be included in the ban."

Enid's face lit up. "That means we'll miss out on the advanced course with HB on Friday," she grinned.

"Actually," Maud voiced the thought that had just struck her. "If all magic has been banned then what exactly are we going to be doing until the Guild decides to lift its ban?"

Enid smile fell into a deep frown. "Oh boy. Imagine it, triple P.E with Miss Drill…. she'll have us running until our muscles have muscles."

"I wonder what led the Guild to impose the ban?" Mildred mused as she played with Tabby's ears.

"You don't think it was any of that stuff that we said to Miss Hyssop, do you?" Maud asked.

The girls looked at each other guiltily. Miss Hyssop had been so disarming that afternoon in the potion class that they had told her pretty much every trick that they carried out during the past term.

"This is awful," Mildred announced. "We've got to show the Guild that Cackle's is the best place for young witches."

Enid rolled her eyes. "Good luck with that. Hey…." A thought crossed her mind. "Imagine it. HB with no magic. She won't be able to appear out of nowhere or… or do anything." She turned with wide eyes to the others. "She'll be just like us."

Maud shook her head. "I don't think HB will ever be anything like us."

"But…" Enid's eyes were still shining. "She can't do anything to stop us. She can't spy on us…She's got no power over us whatsoever."

"There's just one flaw in your plan Einstein," Maud reminded her. "We don't have any magic either."

"And if we play up, then who knows what the Guild will do," Mildred added.

Enid looked at her two friends and shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder how we can be friends when you are so narrow-minded."

"What are you planning Enid Nightshade?" Maud wanted to know, a worried tone in her voice.

"Nothing," Enid replied with a smile on her face. "Nothing…yet."

* * *

Verna looked out of her window as she heard the chattering of girls in the courtyard below and sighed. "I feel as though I've betrayed them."

Hortense raised her head from the book that she had been reading. "What are you talking about?"

"The girls," Verna gestured towards the open window. "It must be so hard for them to cope without their magic."

Hortense frowned. "Well they seem to have managed perfectly well for the past two days," she complained, turning her attention to the pale red crystal that sat on the table in front of her. "There's been no sign of any magic being cast." She leant in a little closer to the crystal, checking to see that it hadn't changed colour.

"How long do you think it will take the Guild to decide on a proper course of action?" Verna wanted to know.

A smile flashed across Hortense's face. "Oh I think the Guild know what they have to do to restore order within this school," she reassured her colleague. "They just need to look for the source of all the trouble and root it out."

Verna frowned. "But there will always be trouble-makers amongst the girls. It's part and parcel of every year. I don't think that expelling them will solve anything."

Hortense merely smiled and sat back in her chair, regarding the crystal on the table. She had every confidence that the Guild would make the right decision. The very fact that it was taking them so long to make a decision was a good sign. Removing a teacher from a school was never something that was done without a great deal of discussion and hand-wringing.

* * *

Ethel stood on her tip toes and reached out, trying to pick up the textbook that had somehow found its way to the back of the top shelf of her cupboard. Her fingertips brushed against the edge of the cover, but she was unable to get a proper grip on it. She pulled a face and reached for it again. There was more of a connection this time and she tried to inch herself just that little bit higher. As she reached, she became aware of a gentle purring from somewhere near her feet and, moments later Nightstar was winding around her ankles.

"Go away," Ethel hissed through her teeth at her cat. Nightstar only mewed softly and continued winding around Ethel's ankles, letting her know exactly how much he wanted some attention.

Torn between reaching for the book and trying to stop Nightstar from turning her into a winding post, Ethel found that she couldn't cope with a third distraction. There was a knock on her door and as she turned her head to acknowledge the caller, she felt her grip on the world slip. Her left hand grasped at the book as her feet finally became tangled up with Nightstar and she plummeted towards the floor.

Drusilla pushed open the door in time to see Ethel fall in an untidy heap on the floor.  
She opened her mouth to say something but at that moment the textbook that Ethel had been reaching for chose that moment to land. Ethel swore loudly as the book bounced off of the top of her head. Nightstar yowled in surprise and shot off in search of somewhere safer to spend the day.

"This is all Mildred Hubble's fault," Ethel muttered as she pulled the book onto her lap.

Drusilla regarded her friend. "Mildred booby-trapped your wardrobe?"

"No," Ethel growled. "But it's all her fault that we can't use magic. If I'd been able to use my magic, I could simply have summoned the book into my hands."

"I don't understand what she's still doing here," Drusilla admitted." After what we said to Miss Spellbinder, I was certain that..."

"Shhh…" Ethel motioned for her friend to be quiet. "I don't want the whole school to hear."

"Sorry," Drusilla apologised, lowering her voice. "But what are we going to do? If anything, things are now worse than they were before."

"That's true," Ethel admitted grudgingly.

"So what can we do about it?"

Ethel clambered to her feet and set the book down on her bed. "Miss Spellbinder obviously didn't understand where the real trouble in this school lies." Ethel turned and began pacing across the room. "Perhaps I should go and talk to her again?"

Drusilla pulled a face. "Do you really think that's wise? She seemed to deliberately misunderstand everything we said last time."

"Well then this time I'll just have to make things clearer," Ethel smiled. "If Mildred manages to get herself into trouble, then that will only serve to strengthen our case."

Drusilla watched her friend as she paced, not sure that she was going to like Ethel's ideas.

* * *

Amelia looked around at the long faces of the other members of staff.

"I think we need to do something to bring us all together as a school," she announced to the group.

"And what precisely do you propose we do?" Constance sneered. "Join hands and sing a rousing chorus of Kumbaya?"

Imogen opened her mouth to suggest something but Constance cut her off before she could speak.

"Before you suggest it Imogen, I for one, do not think that the mood would be lifted by the addition of some pointless sporting occasion."

"I wasn't going to say that," Imogen protested hotly, desperately racking her brains for something else to suggest.

"Well I think that we should all work to restore the Great Hall to a more acceptable state," Amelia announced, trying to head off the potential argument between her staff.

"It's something we can all do together and something we can achieve without the use of magic."

Constance sighed at the prospect of having to carry out any manual work.

"I think it's a great idea," Imogen spoke up, looking pointedly at Constance and her lack of enthusiasm. "It's important that we all learn how to work together without the benefit of magic."

"It will benefit everyone," Amelia pushed the idea further. "Get us working together as a school."

"Oh very well," Constance grumbled. "For the good of the school."

* * *

Enid looked at the bucket of dirty water that sat at her feet and sighed heavily.

"I don't see why we have to be the one's to do this," she grumbled at Mildred and pushed the mop into the bucket with more effort than was strictly necessary. Some of the water sprayed out of the bucket and over Drusilla who was working next to them.

She shrieked as the water soaked her legs.

"Hey," Drusilla protested.

"Watch what you're doing." Ethel immediately came to the defence of her friend. "Typical that you can't even master the control of a mop."

"Well I think that your performance with that broom is a great improvement on your usual standard," Enid snapped back, not prepared to take the scathing remarks of Ethel without reply.

"I'm wet," Drusilla complained.

"I would have said a bit of a drip," Enid retorted. "But you have it your own way."

"Enid." Mildred tugged at her friend's arm, trying to pull her away from the confrontation. She turned and addressed the two furious looking girls. "I'm sure Enid didn't mean it," she told them. "It was just an accident."

"I didn't mean that…" Enid admitted, "But I do mean this." She pulled the mop out of the bucket and flicked it in the direction of Ethel and Drusilla. There was immediately a shriek from both girls as they were liberally splashed with the filthy water.

"See how you like that," Enid laughed, ignoring Mildred's pleas to stop.

"You'll pay for that." Ethel pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and glared at Mildred and Enid.

Across the hall, Constance heard the sound of raised voices and immediately recognised the stance of a witch about to cast a spell. She folded her arms and was about to move across the room, when she remembered the lockdown on the school. Sighing impatiently, she shook her head and had to settle for shouting at the misbehaving pupils.

"Ethel Hallow, may I suggest that you think very carefully about the next words that come out of your mouth."

Constance watched in satisfaction as Ethel lowered her hands and folded her arms, glaring at Mildred and Enid with undisguised hatred.

Muttering under her breath, Constance made her way across the room. As she came to a halt next to the group of girls, she noted the way that their heads dropped. She took in the state of Ethel and Drusilla's clothing.

"What on earth has been going on over here?" Her gaze snapped automatically to the usual source of trouble.

"I had an accident with the mop Miss Hardbroom." Enid broke the silence that had hung in the air.

"An accident?" Constance raised an eyebrow as she took in the bedraggled state of Ethel and Drusilla.

"Yes Miss."

Constance turned her questioning to Ethel. "An accident?"

Ethel glared at Enid. "She did it on purpose," she replied hotly.

"Really." Constance turned to face Enid. "I suggest that you learn to keep that mop under control, or I will make sure that you get to fly it at the next broomstick display."

"Yes Miss." Enid let her head drop and tried to look suitably abashed.

Constance turned to face Ethel and Drusilla. "I suggest that the pair of you go and get cleaned up. What were you supposed to be doing?"

Ethel scowled, annoyed that Enid was going to get away without punishment.

"We were taking down the remaining strands of bunting," she replied sulkily.

"Well," Constance glared at Enid and Mildred. "I'm sure that the two of you will be more than happy to deal with that particular task once you've finished with your current one?"

"But Miss," Mildred started to protest, but shut her mouth as she met HB's gaze.

"Well I'm glad that's settled," Constance remarked coldly and stalled off back across the hall.

Ethel glared at Mildred, her small victory in getting out of any more tidying up, tempered by the cold, dirty water that had soaked her clothes.

"You'll pay for this Hubble," she threatened. "All of this is your fault and one way or another you will pay for it."

"That doesn't sound like two pupils going to get cleaned up to me," HB's icy tones floated across the room. "Ethel I suggest that you and Drusilla move quickly and Mildred, I want to see you taking that bunting down."

"Yes Miss."

Mildred stared up at the stepladder. "I can't go up there."

"There's nothing to it," Enid told her calmly.

"You're not the one that hates heights," Mildred reminded her.

"That's not a height," Enid scorned.

"It is as far as I'm concerned."

"You'll be fine," Enid assured her.

Mildred looked up at the steps, still not wholly convinced.

"I'd get a move on if I were you," Enid suggested. "I can feel HB's eyes burning into us from here."

Mildred gulped and grasped hold of the wooden ladder, placing a foot on the bottom rung. She let out a squeak as it shifted beneath her weight. "I'm not going up there," she whispered to Enid. "And nothing you say is going to make me change my mind."

"HB's got a face like thunder and it looks as though she's about to head this way, Enid improvised.

Mildred closed her eyes and then shakily began to make her way up the ladder.

Ethel stood in the doorway and watched as Mildred gingerly climbed the stepladder. How was it, she wondered that Mildred seemed to get away with everything. She smirked as her classmate wobbled nervously on the top step and, before she could stop herself, muttered the words of a spell beneath her breath.

The stepladder that Mildred was standing on rocked on its base and Ethel stifled a laugh as Mildred gripped onto it for dear life. She was about to increase the strength of the spell when she felt Drusilla's hand on her arm.

"You can't," Drusilla told her friend nervously. "You know what Miss Hardbroom said."

Ethel shook off the restraining arm of her friend. "This is too good an opportunity to miss."

Drusilla pulled at her friend's arm again. "We're supposed to be getting Mildred into trouble, not getting ourselves expelled."

Reluctantly, Ethel dropped her arm to her side. "There has to be some way of showing people what Mildred's really like," she muttered, turning on her heel and preparing to move away.

"Just hold on to the base of it please," Mildred pleaded with Enid.

Enid sighed theatrically and folded her arms. "It's a stepladder," she reminded her friend. "It's designed not to topple."

"Well it definitely wobbled a moment ago," Mildred told her nervously. "And I swear that that wasn't my fault."

"Just grab the rest of the paper and get back down here to help me with the floor," Enid told her and returned her attention to the half-filled bucket, refusing to listen to her friend's pleas.

Mildred closed her eyes and reached out for the tattered red piece of crepe paper that was gently flapping in the draught that ran through the hall. She felt it brush against the tips of her fingers and tried to stretch further to reach it.

She knew immediately that she'd made a mistake. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she felt her feet lose their balance on the top step. She screwed her eyes tighter as she began to topple forwards. Her fingers closed round the strip of crepe paper, as though believing that it might in some way support her weight.

She heard the cry of alarm from Enid and then she felt herself falling, rushing through the air towards the unforgiving stone flags below.

After a few seconds, cold logic worked its way past the panic in Mildred's mind and she realised that she had yet to hit the ground. Although she wasn't protesting about the lack of a hard impact on the stone floor, she was more than a little confused as to why it hadn't happened. Cautiously she opened an eye and tried to work out what was going on.

She appeared to be floating a few feet above the ground and, as she took in the open-mouthed expression of surprise on Enid's face, she wondered fleetingly if her own face was carrying a similar expression.

She became aware of murmuring around her and began to question just how she'd been able to break her fall. She'd not been aware of casting a spell and, if she was honest with herself, she wasn't certain that she could cast a spell that would support her own weight. She blinked as the impossibility of her current predicament began more obvious.

"Mildred Hubble." An all too familiar voice reached her ears and Mildred felt her heart sink. There was of course only one real explanation to her current situation.

"Sorry Miss Hardbroom," she apologised immediately.

She heard HB sigh and then she felt herself being gently lowered towards the ground.

"Can't you do anything without causing a spectacle?" Constance asked her as she altered the parameters of the levitation spell and manoeuvred Mildred back onto the ground.

"Sorry Miss," Mildred apologised again. "I was just trying to clear up."

"And you couldn't do it without plummeting off a ladder?" Constance queried; an exasperated tone in her voice.

"Sorry Miss."

"Yes Mildred," Constance told her. "You've said that already."

Constance turned and addressed the occupants of the hall, who were all standing, watching the events as they developed. Most of the first years were in a state of awe, not having witnessed such magic in close proximity before.

"There's no need for the rest of you to stand around gawping. The excitement is over; I suggest you get back to your appointed tasks," Constance barked at the girls and they immediately set about trying to look busy.

Mildred was about to thank HB, when she felt a swirl of magic in the air and a dark blue funnel of smoke formed in the air.

Mildred turned her head and gasped as she saw the way that the air was shifting.

"What the…" Her voice tailed off as Hortense Spellbinder appeared amid the dark cloud of blue.

"Constance Hardbroom," Hortense announced smoothly, the words dripping off her tongue as her image finally became solid. "Under the powers invested in me by the Witches' Guild, I hereby place you under arrest."

If Constance was shocked by the arrival and the announcement, she didn't show it. She merely raised an eyebrow at the news.

"You are under arrest for contravening the magical lockdown order that was placed upon this academy," Hortense continued, her mouth curving into a slight smile.

"Miss?" Mildred turned to her teacher, expecting her to stand up to Hortense.

Constance raised her head and met Hortense's gaze. "You've waited a long time for this, haven't you?"

"You are to give yourself into my custody whilst a thorough investigation into your activities is undertaken," Hortense continued, pointedly ignoring Constance. "Any attempt to resist arrest will be treated as a treasonable act and your membership of the Witches Guild will be terminated with immediate effect." She paused briefly before continuing. "You do understand, don't you?"


	11. Chapter 11

"Isn't there something you can do?" Imogen paced back and forth across the staff room, her frustration palpable.

Amelia watched the agitated movements of the P.E teacher and shook her head.

"Hortense is acting strictly within the laws of the Guild. Constance **did** break the magical lockdown that was placed on the castle."

Imogen stopped her pacing and slammed her hands down on the desk, making Amelia jump.

"But from what I understand, she was preventing Mildred from being hurt."

"I know, I know," Amelia told her. "But she **did** break the rule."

Imogen shook her head. "This is ridiculous. Constance should be thanked for her actions not taken down to the dungeons as though she was some kind of criminal."

Amelia found that she was hard pushed to argue with Imogen. It was unusual to hear her arguing in favour of Constance and, had the situation not been as serious, Amelia would have made some comment about it.

"I'm afraid that in the circumstances my hands are tied," she explained quietly. "The guild has appointed Hortense as an investigator and so we are bound to follow the decisions that are made."

Imogen shook her head, refusing to accept what was happening. "It's obvious that there's some kind of history between the two. It stopped being an investigation from the moment Hortense Spellbinder got here. Since then it's been little more than an old-fashioned witch hunt."

There was a sudden squeak from Davina and she bolted for the security of the stationary cupboard, the door slamming shut behind her.

Amelia's face darkened. "I won't have you saying things like that within the school Miss Drill. Remember where you are. I want no more mentions of witch-hunting whilst you are within these walls. Am I making myself clear?"

Imogen was more than a little taken aback by the venom in Miss Cackle's voice; it wasn't often that she'd seen her so angry.

"I'm sorry," Imogen apologised quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you; it's just that this whole thing seems to be some kind of personal vendetta on the part of Hortense."

Amelia met the gaze of her colleague and her expression softened. "I know what you mean; Miss Spellbinder does seem remarkably keen to place the blame at Constance's door."

"Have you been able to learn any more about the history between them?"

Amelia shook her head. "I did ask, but you know what Constance is like; any mention of anything personal and she shuts up shop."

"There has to be something you can do?" Imogen persisted. "Some higher authority you can appeal to?"

"The Guild is the highest authority there is," Amelia explained patiently. "We have to go along with Miss Spellbinder for the present time." She saw the exasperated look on Imogen's face. "I will however, compose a letter to the Guild and see if something can't be done."

Imogen remained quiet and wished that she had as much faith in the Guild and letter writing campaigns as Miss Cackle obviously did.

* * *

Somewhere nearby, water was dripping; Constance could hear it as it splashed relentlessly down upon the stone floor, tapping out an incessant rhythm and breaking the otherwise silent calm.

She looked around at the damp bare walls and watched tiny rivulets of water as they made their way down the uneven surface of the stone. The room was bare apart from a small iron bed that sat in one corner. Constance had turned her head and raised a questioning eyebrow at Hortense as the door to the dungeon room had been opened.

'How fortuitous,' she had remarked coldly, and received nothing but a smirk from Hortense in return.

Constance had seen the looks on the faces of the girls as Hortense had made her announcement. They had all expected her to do something, to stand against the Guild inspector and tell her that she was out of order. They didn't understand that the word of the Guild had to be respected; however misguided the messenger was.

Constance resumed her pacing of the small room; missing the jangle of keys at her waist. They had been one of the first things that Hortense had ordered her to hand over. She understood their symbolism and couldn't wait to take them away. Constance recalled the way that Hortense's eyes had sparkled with delight as she held her hand out and demanded that the keys be handed over.

She had heard the gasps from the girls as she complied with the demands. Whatever the outcome of Hortense's preposterous plans, Constance knew she had a long way to go to gain back the regard of the pupils.

* * *

Maud shook her head and stirred what looked remarkably like grey slop round and round in her bowl.

"I can't believe that HB just caved in like that." She finally gave voice to her thought and let the spoon clatter down onto the side of the bowl, raising her eyes to take in her four classmates.

Enid pushed her own bowl away. "I would have thought that she would have told Miss smarmy pants where to get off."

Mildred looked between her friends. "Perhaps it isn't as simple as all that." She sought for some way to explain HB's lack of action.

"It looked pretty simple to me," Enid snapped. "HB just stood there and let that Spellbinder person walk all over her."

Maud shook her head in disbelief. "She just handed over her keys and let Miss Spellbinder lead her away. I never thought HB would be so spineless."

"I wonder what's going to happen to her now?" Enid questioned. "Who knows Millie; this may work out for the best."

"What?"

"HB could be on her way out of here once and for all." Enid sat back in her chair. "There may be a silver lining to this cloud after all."

"How can you say that Enid?" Mildred scolded her friend.

"Oh come on Millie, you're not going to sit there and say that HB hasn't had it in for you since the day you started here? You of all people should be glad at the prospect of seeing the back of her."

Mildred pulled a face. She had to admit that Enid had a point but there was something about the way that Miss Spellbinder was going about things that she didn't like.

"Do you think that this means that we'll be able to use magic again soon?" Maud asked.

"I hope so," Mildred jumped in quickly. "I'm already feeling as though I'm starting to forget things." A look of fear formed on her face. "What if Tabs forgets all about how he's supposed to balance on my broom?"

Enid rolled her eyes. "From what I've seen he doesn't know how to do that now."

"He's just a little scared of heights," Mildred said defensively."

"Just like someone else here," a voice from behind remarked snidely.

Maud and Mildred turned their heads to see Ethel and Drusilla lurking.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Maud once again leapt to the defence of her friend.

Ethel folded her arms and glared at Mildred. "So whose fault was it that HB had to use magic?"

"I never meant…." Mildred stammered but Ethel cut her off.

"No you never do mean Mildred Hubble but somehow you always manage to."

"It wouldn't surprise me if you didn't fall on purpose," Drusilla added. "Everyone knows how you and HB don't get on."

"I wouldn't," Mildred protested. "I couldn't do anything like that."

"How could you think such a thing?" Maud scolded. "None of us would do anything that could damage the school."

"Really?" There was doubt in Ethel's voice. "HB's been trying to get Hubble Bubble out of here since the day she arrived; why is such a great surprise that Mildred takes her chance to get rid of HB?"

"Because we're not all like you Ethel Hallow," Maud's voice rose with her anger. "That might be the sort of mean-spirited thing that you'd do, but Mildred's not like that. She's worth ten of you."

There was the shrill sound of a whistle and moments later Miss Drill appeared at the side of the table.

"Girls, Girls," she chastised them and immediately stepped in between the two warring factions. She looked in turn at the angry faces before asking them what was going on.

Mildred shrugged her shoulders. "It was nothing Miss."

"It didn't sound like nothing," Imogen pointed out. She turned to Ethel. "You seemed to have a lot to say for yourself, would you care to repeat any of it now?"

Ethel folded her arms and glared at Mildred. "No Miss," she replied sullenly.

Imogen thought about trying to press the matter further but she realised that she wasn't going to get any help from the girls in front of her.

"I know these are difficult times," she told them gently. "But we have to stick together as a school if we're going to get through them." She looked round imploringly at the group. "You do understand that, don't you?"

"Yes Miss," the girls chorused as one and, reluctantly, Imogen left them alone and moved back to the side of the hall.

Ethel leant towards Mildred as Miss Drill walked away. "I'm going to see that you get everything that's coming to you," she hissed. "If anything happens to this school because of you, I'm going to make you wish that you'd never been born."

Her piece said, Ethel turned smartly away and walked off arm in arm with Drusilla.

Maud watched her go before turning to console Mildred.

"Don't listen to her," she urged, but Mildred shook her head.

"But she's right. It is all my fault. If anyone should be forced to leave this school, then it's me."

Across the table Jadu suddenly pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. Ruby reached out with an arm, trying to stop her friend, but Jadu stepped away and scurried out of the room, one hand clutched to her face.

"What's that all about?" Maud asked, as she stared after her friend.

Ruby pulled a face. "Jadu received another letter from her mother this morning."

"I take it she's not happy with the whole 'suspension of magic' thing?"

"That's putting it mildly," Ruby admitted. "Look, she asked me not to say anything."

"Don't worry," Enid told her glumly. "I can guess what the letter said. Jadu's mum wants her to move to Pentangles, doesn't she?"

Ruby met the gaze of her friends and nodded slowly. "She says that she's written to Miss Cackle and formally asked for a transfer."

Maud looked down at her hands "I suppose there's no chance of Pentangles turning her down?"

"Jadu says that Salamanders are the next on the list if Pentangles say no."

"That's awful," Enid protested. "There has to be something we can do."

Ruby shook her head. "I get the feeling that we've done enough already."

Mildred had been listening to the exchange between her friends.

"I'll go and see Miss Spellbinder," she told the others, as she pushed her chair away from the table. "I'll tell her that it was all my fault. I'll tell her that I was responsible for everything."

"Millie," Maud tried to stop her friend but Mildred stalked from the room without turning back.

"Oh this is great," Enid remarked sarcastically, looking around at the plates and cups that littered the table. "Anyone else want to storm off in a dramatic fashion and leave me with **all** the clearing away?"

Maud glared at her and Enid sullenly returned her attention to the contents of her bowl.

* * *

"Miss Spellbinder?" Mildred called after the blond-haired witch, as she spotted her making away along the corridor. "Miss Spellbinder!'

When the inspector showed no sign of breaking her pace, Mildred broke into a run in an effort to catch up with her. She was a little out of breath when the older woman finally stopped and turned to face her,

"What is it?" Her voice was cold and Mildred briefly wondered whether or not she was doing the right thing.

"I need to talk to you," Mildred bit back her fear and ploughed straight in. "I really need to talk to you about what really happened during parents' evening."

"Really?" Miss Spellbinder folded her arms and glared down at Mildred. "I suppose you're about to tell me just how wrong I am and how everything is actually your fault."

"Well... er..." Mildred was slightly thrown by the response.

Miss Spellbinder stared down her nose at Mildred. "You are Mildred Hubble, aren't you?"

"Yes Miss."

"You and I do need to have a little chat," she purred. "But I really don't think that bawling at me in the middle of a public thoroughfare is the place, and trust me, this most certainly is not the time."

"But Miss...." Mildred began to protest. Hortense raised a hand to silence her.

"There will be a time Mildred Hubble, when I will wish to hear everything you have to say. Until that time may I suggest that you remain quiet." Her piece said, Hortense turned on her heel and swept off down the corridor.

Mildred watched her go, wondering just what she was planning.

* * *

Hortense pushed open the door to her room and tried to wipe the smile off her face. She had finally nailed Constance Hardbroom. She had been hoping that the potions teacher would put up something of a fight but, she reminded herself, Constance was a stickler for the rules. That was going to make the next part of the procedure that much simpler. There was no way that Constance was going to be able to lie. Hortense rubbed her hands together; it finally looked as though she was going to put Constance in her place once and for all.

"What's up with you dear?" Verna asked casually. "You look like the cat that's got the cream."

Hortense scowled, once again wishing that the elderly inspector would stick to her own room.

"It's nothing," she told the older woman coldly as she made her way over to the table. "Nothing that need concern you."

"Sorry dear," Verna's tone was tinged with hurt. "I'm sure I didn't mean intrude."

Hortense clicked her tongue against her teeth and wished for the umpteenth time that she could get rid of the doddery old witch. But then, as she reminded herself, things wouldn't have worked out without her. She forced a concerned expression onto her face and turned to face her colleague.

"I'm sorry; I guess I'm just finding it hard to accept that one of my former classmates has turned out this way."

Verna's face softened. "I'd forgotten that you were at the WTC with Constance. This must have been a terrible experience for you."

Hortense nodded and dabbed at her dry eyes with a handkerchief.

"I never thought that she'd disgrace the Guild in this way. I mean, I tried to look the other way, but when you think of all the things that we've discovered in the past few days…" Hortense let the sentence fade off.

Verna leant across the table and tapped the surface gently. "You've had a hard couple of days but I don't see that you could have acted in any other way."

"Will you act as judge during the trial?"

Verna sat back in her chair, obviously stunned by the request. Hortense seized the moment of silence to apply a little pressure to her colleague.

"There has to be a trial. You do understand that, don't you?"

"It does seem something of an extreme action. I can't recall the last time that the Guild placed one of its own on trial."

"The rules are quite clear," Hortense persisted.

"But a trial," Verna questioned. "You know what that could mean."

"But after what we've discovered here in the past few days," Hortense reminded her. "It's become clear that Constance Hardbroom is acting outside of the accepted rules.

You are one of the most senior members of the Guild. Who else could I ask to preside over the fate of my former classmate?" Hortense sought out the older woman's gaze. "I want her to have someone who I know will make the right decisions; someone who's opinion and judgement I trust implicitly…Will you do it?"

Hortense watched as Verna weighed up the request in her mind. She managed to suppress a smile as Verna nodded slowly.

"I'll do it," she told Hortense. "I'll do it for you."

* * *

Amelia sealed the envelope and turned it round so that she could check the details of the address. The letter felt heavy in her hands. All her adult life she'd respected the work of the Witches' Guild. She'd never questioned their motives and had always thought of them as a force of good in a world that was rarely accepting of witches and magic.

She placed the letter on the desk as she heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called out. The door opened smartly and Hortense entered the room.

Amelia resisted the temptation to quickly hide the letter underneath a stack of files and instead tried to make the movement look casual.

Hortense watched the actions of Amelia and smiled; she had expected the headmistress to back her deputy and, it wasn't much of a stretch of the imagination, to work out exactly who the letter she was clumsily trying to hide was addressed to.

"Do you mind if I take a seat?"

Amelia waved her towards the chair. "Please."

Hortense settled onto the chair and crossed her legs, brushing at the specks of dust that had settled onto her plain black skirt.

"I know that this is something of an awkward situation," she began, raising her eyes to meet Amelia's gaze. "But I hope that we can carry on in a professional manner."

"Of course," Amelia replied quickly. "Although I'd like to put on record the fact that my staff and I object to your treatment of Miss Hardbroom. She was, after all, saving one of the pupils from a nasty fall."

Hortense narrowed her eyes slightly. "I presume that that is what your letter to the Guild will be about?"

Amelia flustered slightly, surprised that Hortense had guessed her actions so quickly.

"Come, come, Miss Cackle," Hortense chided. "Did you think that I wouldn't guess? Your loyalty towards your colleague is quite commendable, although, if you don't mind me saying, a little naïve. As to your protests, I take them on board but I'd like to remind you that the magical lockdown was placed on this school with the full support of the Guild. I am only following their instructions."

Amelia struggled to find something to say by way of reply. Hortense took advantage of the silence to continue with the real purpose for her visit to Amelia.

"I will be sending a report to the Guild, informing them of what I have done and telling them that I will be instigating a formal trial as soon as possible."

"Miss Spellbinder!" Amelia began to protest but Hortense continued talking, not giving Amelia the chance to complain further.

"Constance has, as my recent investigations have revealed, indulged in some highly dubious activities. She has nearly brought disaster upon the school with her lax attitude towards the storing of certain volumes within the school walls. She has also demonstrated an inability to follow an edict issued by the Guild itself. I feel therefore that a more in-depth investigation into her activities is in order. If the Guild finds that such an action is not necessary, then they will reply by return of post and I will duly halt the proceedings."

"But a trial?" Amelia protested.

"Miss Hyssop will preside over the case," Hortense announced. "As a senior member of the Guild, I feel that she is perfectly placed to act as an independent voice of reason."

"But…" Amelia was struggling to take in everything that was being said.

"Constance will remain where she is until this matter is resolved. I don't believe that releasing her on her own recognisance would be a prudent move. The magical lockdown will remain in place; only a truth divining spell will be permitted into the air."

"I really must protest," Amelia finally found her voice. "This is too much."

"I feel that a spell to gauge the truth of what is being said is regrettably essential," Hortense retorted, deliberately misunderstanding the reason for Miss Cackle's protest.

"With a non-magical member of staff involved in the case, we can't rely on her to respect the oath that the rest of us have made to the Guild."

Hortense rose to her feet, pointedly ignoring the protests that Amelia was starting to make.

"If you have any questions then I suggest that you direct them to the Witches' Guild; they have given me full powers in this matter and I'd like to remind you that any action against me will be treated as an action against the Guild. Think carefully about your own Guild status, and that of your pupils, before you do anything hasty."

Amelia was left feeling stunned as Hortense swept out of the room.


	12. Chapter 12

**_I was beginning to think that was conspiring against me._**

* * *

"There's to be a trial," Amelia announced quietly, looking around the staff room table at her colleagues. She turned her attention to Imogen, suspecting that the sports teacher would be the one with the questions.

"A trial?" The question came almost straight away.

"Yes," Amelia replied solemnly. "Hortense has decided that there are grounds enough to call into question Constance's allegiance to the Guild. She seems to think that Constance is acting outside of the rules laid down by the Witches' Guild."

"That's ridiculous, surely?" Imogen argued. "I can't think of anyone who's more of a stickler for the rules than Constance."

Amelia smiled. "I have to say that it's more than a little strange to hear you sticking up for her," she admitted. "I'm more used to you voicing your frustration at what you see to be her inability to bend the rules."

Imogen allowed herself a small smile. "I know. It just strikes me that Hortense is a little keen to see Constance punished for something. Can't say as though I like to see anyone set up."

Amelia frowned. "Imogen, I must remind you again that this is a Guild investigation. Constance can only be punished if it can be shown that she acted outside of the rules. It is not possible for Hortense, or anyone to engineer a situation that didn't happen."

Imogen looked less than impressed. "What will this trial entail exactly?"

Amelia sat back in her chair and folded her arms. "It will be conducted as you'd expect, with witnesses being called and questioned."

"I presume that Hortense is prosecuting?"

Amelia shook her head and let out a slow breath. "It's not a trial in that sense. The facts of the charge will be laid out by Hortense and the judge will decide whether the case is proved or not."

"So Constance doesn't get a chance to defend herself?" Imogen's tone was one of disbelief.

"If there is no case to answer then Constance won't need to defend herself."

Imogen looked to Miss Bat to see if the chanting teacher could see the fatal flaw in the Guild's logic. She felt her heart sink as she watched Davina bite the heads off a bunch of peonies. She turned back to Amelia.

"Hortense is bound to twist things so that it looks as though Constance is guilty," she tried to make the headmistress understand.

Amelia shook her head. "Hortense will simply present the facts and Verna will decide whether Constance acted within Guild rules or not."

Imogen's eyebrows shot up. "What's Verna got to do with this?" She paused and a nasty thought sprang to her mind. "You mentioned a judge, please don't tell me that you were referring to Verna?"

Amelia frowned. "Verna Hyssop is a long standing member of the Guild; as such she is perfectly placed to act as a judge."

Imogen rolled her eyes. "She also has trouble remembering if it's gravy or milk you're supposed to put in coffee!"

"Ahhh," Imogen's fear was realised by Amelia. "I think I see your point," she finally conceded. "But if I were to question the Guild over their appointment of a judge, then that wouldn't look good."

"So Hortense has got us over a barrel," Imogen muttered.

Amelia nodded ruefully. "It certainly looks that way."

"Well I for one think that Miss Hyssop is an excellent judge of character," Davina exclaimed through a mouthful of peonies.

"Was that before or after she said that your playing of the school song was the most moving thing she'd ever heard?" Imogen inquired.

"Jealousy is an unattractive trait." Davina responded, taking another healthy bite out of the peonies.

"I think we're in danger of getting away from the point," Miss Cackle did her best to steer the conversation back to the subject in hand.

"Agreed," Imogen folded her arms and sat back in her chair. "But what's the worst that the Guild can do? I mean, at the end of the day, what sort of punishment is Constance looking at? A fine... or a suspension?"

Amelia's face darkened. "If she's found guilty of the charges that Miss Spellbinder has seen fit to lay, then the court could recommend that Constance be stripped of her powers entirely."

"What?" Imogen sat bolt upright in her chair.

"Oh yes," Amelia continued. "If the Guild feel that Constance has been acting outside of the rules or has brought the name of the Guild into disrepute, then it has the right to take away her witch status."

Imogen shook her head. "And going by the smug look that Miss Spellbinder had on her face when she arrested Constance, I'd say that that was exactly what she was planning on."

"You mustn't be so quick to fear the worst Imogen, there's every chance that Constance will be found not guilty."

Imogen looked from Amelia to Davina and found it hard to share their optimism.

"What are we going to tell the girls?"

"I suggest that we keep the possible outcome of the trial to ourselves," Amelia suggested. "There's no point in needlessly upsetting the girls."

Imogen found that she had to agree with Amelia, although she wasn't sure exactly which of the girls would be upset by the news.

* * *

The news of the impending trial spread round the school like wildfire. At every available opportunity, pupils were exchanging the news that they had picked up. Some of it was, needless to say, a little far from the truth. Harriet Goodcharm apparently had it on good authority that the case was going to be beamed magically into all the classrooms and the pupils were going to get to vote on the verdict.

The tale of Miss Hardbroom's arrest had also taken on a life of its own; growing greater in the retelling and it was becoming impossible to convince some of the pupils that HB hadn't in fact been clapped in irons and escorted to the dungeons by a platoon of heavily armed guards conjured up by Miss Spellbinder.

The reality of the trial therefore came as something of a letdown to some of the younger pupils. They found that they were not going to be able to skip lessons to sit in and watch; they were in fact going to have to work quietly in their own rooms whilst the trial was going on, supervision being carried out by whichever member of staff was not required in the Great Hall.

* * *

Mildred stood at the closed wooden door for a few moments, her hand raised; wondering whether or not she was doing the right thing. She had to admit to herself that it did feel a little strange to be standing outside of Miss Cackle's office voluntarily and not as a result of some classroom misdemeanour.

Swallowing her nerves, she brought her knuckles down upon the rough wood and knocked twice.

There was a pause, followed by a frantic shuffling of something and a drawer being opened and closed. Finally, a slightly muffled 'come in' was uttered and Mildred pushed down on the handle of the door.

"Ahh Mildred." Mildred was more than a little surprised to see what looked like relief on her headmistresses face, she was more accustomed to seeing the smile drop from Miss Cackle's face and a look of disappointment replace it.

"What can I do for you?"

Mildred took a few nervous steps into the room.

"I wondered if I could ask you a few things about…" Mildred tailed off, her nerves getting the better of her.

The questioning expression on Miss Cackle's face softened into a smile and she indicated that Mildred should take a seat.

Mildred settled herself onto the chair opposite her headmistress and tried to order her thoughts.

"This is all my fault," she finally blurted out. "It's not Miss Hardbroom that should be on trial."

Amelia regarded Mildred for a few moments, trying to hide from her expression the surprise she was feeling.

"Miss Hardbroom did break the edict that the Guild had laid down," she reminded her pupil. "She did use her magic."

"But that was to save me from falling," Mildred protested. "If Miss Hardbroom hadn't acted I could have really hurt myself. Can't we talk to Miss Spellbinder and make her understand?"

Amelia looked at the wide, hopeful eyes of Mildred and wished that she could tell her that everything was going to be ok.

"I'm sorry," she replied quietly. "Miss Spellbinder has already reported the incident to the Witches' Guild and they have decided that a trial is the correct way to proceed."

"But can't we explain to the Guild?"

Amelia shook her head. "Miss Spellbinder is their representative. If we were to question her decisions then that would only anger the Guild. I'm afraid we'll just have to let this trial take place as ordered."

"But before that," Mildred protested. "This is all to do with what happened during parents evening and that was also all my fault."

Amelia smiled softly. "I'm sure that that's not true."

"But it is," Mildred's tone took on a more desperate edge. "I was the one who cast the perception altering spell; I was the one that caused the entity to come to the school…"

"Mildred, Mildred," Miss Cackle motioned with her hands for Mildred to calm down.

"We can't stop the trial from taking place, but I'm sure if we work together we can show that Miss Hardbroom did nothing wrong."

"I tried talking to Miss Spellbinder but she wouldn't listen to me," Mildred complained. "I tried to tell her what happened but she didn't want to know."

Miss Cackle looked at Mildred over the top of her glasses.

"I suppose I should be pleased that you are at least now willing to talk to someone about that night." She sat back in her seat. "Although things may look bad at the moment Mildred, I'm sure that the trial will show that no-one here did anything wrong."

Mildred looked at Miss Cackle, her expression showing that she wanted to believe the words her headmistress spoke, but at the back of her mind there was a voice that told her that HB didn't stand a chance.

* * *

Ethel stared out of her window and watched as a lone blackbird swooped and whirled in the cold morning air.

Routine within the school had been completely disrupted by the trial, and rather than being able to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, all pupils not involved in delivering meals had been instructed to remain in their rooms.

Ethel sighed heavily and watched the blackbird as it disappeared behind the tree line. She envied the bird its freedom. There was nothing worse than being stuck in a room and not able to go anywhere. She turned her head as she heard a knock at the door.

"Breakfast," a voice called out and Ethel reassessed the situation. There was perhaps one thing that was worse than being stuck in a room and that was having to wait on fellow pupils.

She was about to leave her position at the window when movement from somewhere down in the courtyard caught her eye. She glanced down to see Hortense Spellbinder making her way swiftly across the open area, heading for the main building and the Great Hall. Ethel watched her, wishing not for the first time, that she could be more like the Guild inspector. There was just something so serene about her, something inherently glamorous. Ethel sighed and turned away from the window. Before she could hope to match the glamour of someone like Miss Spellbinder, she had to complete her time at Cackles.

As she made her way across her room, refusing to respond to the now frantic shouting that was coming from the other side of the door, she wished that there was some sort of spell that could fast track her to the final year and her graduation.

She pulled open the door with more force than was strictly necessary and Drusilla, who had been standing on the other side of it, practically fell into the room, the food on the plate she was carrying, coming perilously close to falling to the floor.

"Is it really necessary to carry on with all that shouting?" she demanded to know.

Drusilla straightened herself up and glared at her friend.

"You weren't replying. I thought that something might be wrong."

"And yet you didn't see fit to simply open the door?"

Drusilla looked down at her feet. "You told me never to walk into your room without an invitation."

Ethel chose to ignore the comment and looked instead at the congealing food on the plate Drusilla was carrying.

"Is that really the best that Mrs Tapioca has to offer?"

Drusilla nodded and put the plate down on the table.

"You should have seen the plate that I gave Mildred," she said with a grin.

Ethel folded her arms.

"We've got to do something about Mildred. If it wasn't for her then HB wouldn't be in trouble."

Drusilla thought about reminding Ethel that it was her fault that Mildred fell from the ladder, but then thought better of it. Arguing with Ethel was always a waste of time. There wasn't anyone in the world who was right on more occasions that Ethel claimed to be. She'd learnt a while ago that it was simply safer to agree with everything her friend said and keep quiet.

"What are you planning to do?"

Ethel thought about it for a moment.

"There's a member of the Witches' Guild here. If we could show that Mildred was behind the trouble during Parents' evening, then Miss Spellbinder would have to do something about her."

"But we tried that before," Drusilla pointed out. "Miss Spellbinder didn't seem to understand."

"Then we have to make sure that Mildred knows exactly how we feel about her," Ethel said decisively as she pulled open the drawer in her desk and drew out a sheet of paper. The paper shimmered slightly in the air and Ethel caught the frown that crossed her friend's face.

"We were told that we couldn't use any magic," Drusilla reminded her.

Ethel tutted. "This is hardly magic at all," she protested. "No-one could possibly complain about this."

Drusilla watched as Ethel began to write on the paper. She shook her head, convinced that nothing good would come of her friend's plan.

* * *

Imogen fidgeted in her seat and looked around the Great Hall. Hortense had certainly been busy. Up on the stage was a large wooden table which Miss Hyssop sat behind in a tall backed chair, a gavel at her right elbow. Below on the floor the area had been divided up. To the left hand side of the stage was another wooden table which Hortense sat at, to the right there was a plain wooden chair which Constance was sat upon. Constance had been there when Imogen had entered the room, but the potions teacher had yet to make eye contact with anyone. She simply stared into space as though the others weren't there.

Imogen tried to shrug away the sense of unease that she felt. She was seated, along with Miss Cackle along the left hand wall. There were other chairs laid out, implying that Hortense was intent on calling other members of the school to speak.

"We all know why we are here today." Hortense rose to her feet and addressed the small gathering. "The Witches' Guild have a very strict policy when it comes to the use and storage of magic where there are minors present. The guild believes that the young witches of today are our future and they strive to ensure that everything is done to make sure that pupils leave school with the correct respect towards the ancient craft that they have been taught. Where the Guild fears that its teachings and guidelines are not being adhered to, it retains the right to intervene. Following the report submitted to the Guild by my colleague and I, the Guild feels that there are sufficient grounds to question the safety of the magic being taught within this academy. Special concern was voiced at the way that the deputy head, Constance Hardbroom, was adjudged to have used magic during events that took place at the end of the last term. The Guild has decided that the matter needs to be investigated fully and has granted permission for a special trial to be conducted; to examine the use of magic by the aforementioned Constance Hardbroom and to determine whether or not she showed due care and attention to those non-magical members of the public who were within school grounds at the time."

Hortense turned her head to look at Constance for the first time.

"Do you vow to accept the decision reached here as being the decision of the Guild and to abide by the edicts that it may issue?"

Constance nodded. "I do."

"Right then," Hortense smiled at the rest of the group. "Let's get this started." She gestured towards the chair that sat at the front of the hall between herself and Constance. "Miss Cackle, if you would care to take a seat."

* * *

Mildred looked out of her window, across the courtyard and wondered exactly what was going on in the Great Hall. She knew that her attention was supposed to be focused on working on the answers to the essay questions that were on the paper in front of her, but she found that she just couldn't concentrate.

Miss Spellbinder had told her to come to Miss Cackle's office at lunchtime and Mildred feared that she was going to be told that she had to give evidence. She didn't mind admitting to Tabby that she was petrified by the idea. She'd never been all that confident when it came to talking in front of the rest of the class, and so the idea of having to answer questions in front of the Guild inspectors, not to mention HB was nothing short of terrifying.

She stared blindly down at the paper in front of her and willed time to stop.

A scraping sound from her door made her turn her head. A folded piece of paper had been pushed through the gap at the bottom. Cautiously, she rose to her feet and approached the door. One of the first things she had learnt at Cackles was that often things weren't as they first appeared. Satisfied that the paper wasn't going to explode or shower her with something unpleasant, she bent down and picked it up.

'Take your punishment.' They were the only words written upon the piece of paper. Although she didn't recognise the handwriting, she knew that Ethel was more than likely behind it.

She knew that there was no way she could convince her classmate that she didn't want anything bad to happen to the school.

Mildred was about to screw the letter into a ball when she thought better of it. Keeping it would mean that she would have some kind of evidence if anything happened to her or her work.

She folded the letter carefully and was about to place it in a drawer when it shimmered in her hands.

"No!" she cried out as she watched it slowly dissolve into nothingness.

The letter was a warning...that was obvious. Mildred swallowed and wondered just what was being planned.

* * *

In the Great Hall, Constance sat straight-backed in the chair and stared straight ahead. Her expression was neutral, not giving away the slightest emotion. Imogen regarded her colleague and wondered how she managed to remain so calm. She was certain that if someone were threatening to end her career, she'd be fighting them all the way, not sitting calmly and waiting for judgement to be announced.

Imogen wasn't certain why Hortense had ordered her to attend the trial. She'd made it perfectly clear what she thought of anyone who wasn't a witch and, given the chance, Imogen would much rather have stayed to look after the girls. So, it was with a sense of unease that she sat there and listened to Miss Spellbinder carry out her questioning.

"On the night of the 28th of last month, a magical entity came into being within the walls of this castle. The entity was drawn to this particular venue because of the actions of one of the second year pupils. It hardly needs to be mentioned that no second year pupil should be able to get their hands on magic that powerful; magic that the outside world as a whole would refer to as black magic," Hortense paused and took a much needed breath. "The spell that was used was a very specific spell, a spell that in fact only exists in one particular set of books." Hortense turned her attention to Constance, who was sitting with an expression of extreme boredom on her face. "The Forbidden Volumes are yours I believe."

Constance nodded. "They are. They have always been kept in a secure location, away from prying eyes."

"So you admit that you stored the Forbidden Volumes within academy walls?" Hortense's voice was even.

Constance inclined her head towards her questioner.

"It's not a matter of admitting anything," she replied flatly. "I've never attempted to hide their presence."

"But isn't it true that Miss Cackle was unaware that they were on the premises?" Hortense pointed out.

"I hardly thought it necessary to inform Miss Cackle every time I brought a book within the walls of the castle, if I were to do so I would undoubtedly waste many precious hours in her already busy day."

"You didn't think it necessary to say anything even when the contents of the book had the potential to place lives in danger?" Hortense didn't give Constance a chance to reply. She swung round to face Miss Cackle.

"Did you or did you not know that the Forbidden Volumes were within the castle walls?"

Amelia wanted to lie to help her colleague but she knew that the honesty spell in the air would prevent that.

"I wasn't aware that Constance had the volumes," she admitted.

Hortense turned and a half-smile was present on her face.

"And if you were aware, would you have been happy with the situation?"

Amelia shook her head.

"I have never felt at home with the magic that those volumes contain," she tried to explain. "I know that Constance…"

"Please, Miss Cackle…" Hortense interrupted her. "Just answer the question. "If Miss Hardbroom had informed you that she intended on bringing the Forbidden Volumes into the school, would you have been happy?"

Amelia looked down at her feet.

"No," she replied honestly, admitting to herself that that kind of magic always made her teeth itch.

Hortense turned back to face Constance.

"After hearing what your headmistress has to say on the matter, would you agree that it was more than a little remiss of you to not think that, perhaps, a school full of young girls was not the safest place to bring some of the most powerful magic books in existence?"

Constance looked evenly at Hortense for a few seconds.

"If any of us are to learn, we have to apply ourselves. Whilst some of us may be of the rather short-sighted opinion that that learning stops once one's education is over, others of us strive to continue learning, so that we might better understand the world around us." Sensing that Hortense was about to speak, Constance continued. "There are a great many things to be learnt from the Forbidden Volumes, I believe that they have their place within the school."

Hortense's right eyebrow shot up.

"You think that it's right to let young impressionable girls dabble with magic that they are obviously too inexperienced to handle?"

"That was not what I said." Constance, much to Miss Cackle's surprise, kept her tone even. "I think it would be a mistake however, and a loss to the magic community at large, if books such as the Forbidden Volumes were hounded out of existence by a few narrow-minded, small thinking witches whose greatest magical feat was to scrape through their practical magic test with the lowest score in the entire history of the college."

"Well I…" Hortense pushed up her sleeves and took on an attacking posture, her face scarlet with rage. "You'd better take that…."

"Ladies, ladies please," Verna shouted from her seat, her voice barely registering in the room. "I will not have such an outburst in my courtroom."

Constance glanced casually towards Verna, whilst picking invisible specks of fluff from the sleeve of her dress.

"I do apologise," she answered softly. "It won't happen again."

Verna banged her gavel down on the desk in front of her, in a desperate attempt to attract the attention of Hortense who was still looking as though she was about to launch a magical attack on Constance.

"Miss Spellbinder, please," Verna quavered. "Could we get back to case in hand?"

Imogen watched from the side of the hall with barely concealed amusement as Hortense fought to regain control of her temper. Although she'd never found it funny when she was the one on the end of one of Constance's scathing rants, she now gained a new appreciation of the way that her colleague could manipulate a situation.

* * *

Mildred heard the whispers as she made her way down the corridor towards the courtyard.

"It's all your fault Hubble," she heard a voice call out. Mildred turned; trying to see who had spoken but she found herself facing a wall of angry glares and folded arms.

"I haven't done anything," she tried to protest but the crowd of girls appeared not to be listening.

"If it wasn't for you, then the inspectors would never have come here."

Mildred shook her head.

"That's just not true," she protested.

"Isn't it?"

Ethel Hallow pushed her way through the crowd of girls and glared at Mildred.

"So who was it who cast the perception altering spell? Who was it who couldn't remember the reversing spell? And who is it who's been summoned to give evidence in the Great Hall?"

"What?"Mildred was momentarily lost for words.

Ethel smiled, enjoying the look of discomfort on Mildred's face. "This school is in trouble and you seem to be at the source of it all, as usual."


	13. Chapter 13

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Once again, I'm sorry for leaving such a gap between posts. Things have been a little on the busy side. Thanks for your patience and your reviews. I appreciate both of them :)

* * *

Mildred looked at the angry expressions on the faces of the girls around her.

"I haven't done anything wrong," she protested.

Ethel smiled thinly at her. "Can you honestly say that you've spent one single day within this school without doing anything wrong? You're a walking disaster area Mildred Hubble."

Mildred met Ethel's gaze.

"There isn't time for this," she tried to argue her point. "With what's going on, we should work together not fight amongst ourselves."

Ethel shook her head. "The way I see it, if you weren't here, there wouldn't be any trouble. Why don't you go and see Miss Spellbinder, tell **her **all about your pathetic little deception during parents' evening?"

"Perhaps you would care to entertain the notion that Miss Spellbinder already knows a little about what occurred within these walls during parents' evening," a voice boomed out, filling the corridor with sound and making the girls jump.

All heads turned in the direction of the potions lab and Miss Spellbinder who was standing in the doorway, glaring at the assembled group.

"Perhaps you'd care to explain what you are all doing here?"

"We...Well that is to say I...well...." Ethel stammered, not certain of what to say.

Hortense arched an eyebrow. "Well I'm glad we cleared that up," she remarked sardonically. "Now perhaps you would all like to head off to wherever it is you are supposed to be. Whatever the lax situation within this school, I somehow don't imagine that 'hanging around in the corridors' appears anywhere on the school timetable."

The group silently began to disperse. Hortense cast her eye over them.

"Mildred Hubble," she announced icily. "I think perhaps you and I should have a quiet word."

Mildred's heart sank and she stared down at her feet, not wanting to see the look of satisfaction on Ethel's face.

"Come along girl," Hortense called out. "I really don't have time to waste."

"Get out of this one," Ethel hissed at her as she moved past.

Dragging her feet along the ground, Mildred made her way slowly to the potions lab.

* * *

Hortense congratulated herself on having the foresight to bring the magic sensing crystal with her to the school. It had flared briefly less than an hour ago, indicating that there was magic in the air and, after a little detective work; Mildred Hubble's room had been identified as the source of that magic.

Hortense regarded the young witch, unable to keep the look of distain from her face. How was it, she wondered, that a scruffy witch such as the girl in front of her felt able to disregard an edict from the Guild.

"Come and stand at the front," she instructed Mildred, wanting to get the chance to examine the aura of magic that was in the air around the girl.

"I thought I made it clear that no magic was to be cast within the walls of the school."

"I haven't cast any magic," Mildred protested.

"Then how do you explain the fact that you appear to be surrounded by some sort of magical residue?"

Mildred shook her head. "I don't understand," she answered quickly. Moments later a flash of memory filled her head. The letter from Ethel...the way that it had evaporated into thin air...the way that everyone she met seemed to blame her suddenly. She closed her eyes. Ethel obviously had a supply of enchanted paper. She opened her mouth to try and explain that it wasn't her fault but Miss Spellbinder didn't give her the chance.

"I wonder if that's the only spell in the air?"

"Miss?"

Hortense ignored the question and reached a hand into the small pouch she wore at her waist. Casting spells on other witches was something that was always fraught with difficulties. It was no problem with a non-witch, they rarely expected to be covered in a fine powder and then lose track of time. Witches on the other hand, if they were any good, then they were always half-expecting the worst.

She withdrew her hand from the pouch and cast the fine powder into the air. It cascaded down around Mildred and Hortense waited for a few moments to make sure that the magic had taken effect.

Mildred stared back unblinking at her and Hortense allowed herself a small smile; now perhaps she'd get a few answers.

* * *

Mildred blinked and looked at her surroundings.

"Don't just stand there girl," she heard Miss Spellbinder bark at her.

Mildred's head felt as though it was full of cotton wool, and her throat was dry, as though she'd been talking for a long time. She blinked and tried to work out what was going on. She was standing in the potions lab, that much was clear, but she wasn't really sure what she was doing there.

She raised a hand and rubbed at her eyes.

"For pity's sake girl I asked you a simple question," Miss Spellbinder's words broke into the confusion in her brain.

"Miss?"

Miss Spellbinder sighed heavily.

"I asked you about the magic that you saw fit to cast despite there being a ban imposed on the whole school."

Mildred shook her head, still not quite sure of her surroundings.

"I'm beginning to doubt that you could cast any spell," Miss Spellbinder remarked flatly. "It looks as though it's pointless trying to talk to you here; perhaps you'll be more communicative when you're called to the stand in the Great Hall."

Her piece said; Miss Spellbinder swept from the room.

Certain that the Guild inspector had finally gone, Mildred looked up at the clock on the wall. She let out a gasp; there was no way that it could be that late. She was certain that she walked into the room at the start of break and yet the clock told her that it was a good twenty minutes later.

Mildred frowned. There was only one way that she could have lost time. Her eyes looked towards the doorway that Miss Spellbinder had walked through. She let out a small laugh and tried to dismiss the thought that formed in her head; there was no way that a member of the Witches' Guild would do something so unethical…was there?

Mildred looked back towards the clock again. Something at the back of her mind told her that her suspicions weren't completely groundless, but she knew that she couldn't talk to Miss Cackle or Miss Bat about it. They were both loyal members of the Guild. Mildred had to admit that they would probably question her, rather than take her fears seriously. She wouldn't blame them either; it wasn't as though she had always been the most reliable of students.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor outside spurred her into action. Miss Spellbinder had not made any secret of her dislike of non-magical members of staff. Maybe there was someone she could talk to after all.

* * *

Imogen paced back and forth across the staff room.

"I can't do it," she finally stated, shaking her head. "I just can't do it."

Amelia watched the games teacher as she made another pass across the room.

"I'm afraid you have to do it," she told her with as much sympathy as she could muster. "You don't get to have a say in the matter."

Imogen stopped her pacing and turned to face Miss Cackle.

"But I'm going to end up making Constance sound like a monster, like you…" she trailed off.

"Like I did," Amelia finished the sentence glumly.

"I didn't mean…" Imogen tried to make up for her faux pas but Amelia waved the apology away.

"You're right," she told her. "I did make it sound as though Constance was a law unto herself and nothing short of a danger to the pupils."

"It's that Hortense Spellbinder," Imogen protested. "Anyone can see that she's got it in for Constance."

Amelia looked at Imogen over the top of her glasses.

"I hope you're not calling into question the integrity of the Witches' Guild?"

"Oh no, they've just sent us one witch who appears to be on a mission to get rid of Constance and another who barely knows what day of the week it is. Far be it from me to question their integrity."

Amelia looked at Imogen with as much patience as she could manage.

"The Guild are a professional organisation," she reminded her colleague. "I really wish you'd try and treat them with a little more respect."

Imogen closed her eyes and tried to keep a lid on her temper.

"But you've seen the way that Hortense seems to be gunning for Constance," she protested. "Surely you can see that?"

"What I have seen is Miss Spellbinder trying to get to the bottom of a situation, nothing more." Amelia shook her head.

"The woman has the manners of a pit-bull," Imogen protested. "I don't see her being the impartial type."

"Imogen please," Amelia chided.

Imogen held up her hands.

"I'm sorry, I just can't shake the feeling that all this is happening just a little too fast."

"If I were you I'd focus a little more on tomorrow's events and less on trying to see conspiracies where there aren't any."

"Perhaps you're right," Imogen agreed grudgingly and sat down heavily on a chair.

"But how am I going to make Constance sound reasonable?" she pleaded with

Amelia. "Hardly a week goes by when I don't end up having at least one run in with her over the way that she treats the girls." She dropped her head down into her hands. "This is going to be a nightmare."

"I know how you feel about Constance," Amelia tried to reassure Imogen. "But just tell the truth. What possible harm could come from doing that?"

Imogen raised her head, a look of complete disbelief on her face.

"I think that Constance cast some sort of memory erase spell on me," she exclaimed, "How is that going to help her case if it comes to light? Constance could lose her witch status because of what I say. I don't want to be responsible for that."

Amelia looked at her sympathetically. "You have to tell the truth."

Imogen smiled weakly.

"There's a truth spell in the air," she reminded Amelia. "I won't have the option to do anything else."

Amelia patted the back of Imogen's hand softly.

"Whilst it's true that the truth can sometimes hurt, saying nothing at all can hurt even more."

* * *

Outside, in the corridor, Mildred backed away from the door, her mouth wide open in shock. She'd peered through the keyhole before knocking as she wanted to avoid meeting up with Miss Spellbinder. Once she'd started listening to the conversation, she found that she couldn't stop. It wasn't that she felt proud of eavesdropping; it was just that she couldn't tear herself away from the door.

Her hand dropped to her side, there was no point in knocking now; she was certain that she wouldn't be able to say anything.

HB no longer a witch...the concept wasn't one that she could cope with. It just didn't seem possible. Miss Cackle not a witch, now that was believable. Mildred could imagine her one day hanging up her hat and broom and possibly opening up a teashop somewhere...but HB! Take away the witch and what was there?

Turning on her heel Mildred fled down the corridor.

* * *

Constance looked towards the door as it swung open on squeaking hinges. Light fell into the room from the corridor outside and illuminated the previously dark corners.

Constance blinked at the sudden intrusion of light and tried to work out who the figure silhouetted in the doorway was.

"Ahh, how the mighty have fallen." There was a warm, smug, tone to the voice.

"I've been expecting you," Constance told Hortense. "I'm only surprised that it's taken you so long to get here."

Hortense leant up against the doorframe.

"Having an over inflated opinion of your own importance was always one of your less appealing traits." She turned her hand over and studied her perfectly manicured fingernails. "This must be something of a shock for you."

"Must it?"

Hortense laughed lightly.

"The always so perfect, so pristine Constance Hardbroom reduced to sitting in a dark, damp cell with no recourse to magical volumes." She clapped a hand to the side of her face. "However will she cope?"

"Can't we dispense with the childish theatrics?" Constance asked in a tired voice. "Aren't we both a little long in the tooth to be indulging in such an activity?"

Hortense stiffened. "You think that this is childish?"

"Don't you?"

Hortense shook her head. "I've been waiting for years for you to put a foot wrong, waiting for you to finally show your true colours."

Constance sighed. "What an overactive imagination you must have."

"You were always so superior at college. Always there with the answer; always ready with the right spell."

Constance frowned. "You know as well as I do the outcome of making a mistake," she reminded Hortense. "You know what Mistress Broomhead would do."

Hortense shook her head. "I was never among the chosen," she snarled. "Was never one of her little pets!"

"Well then count yourself lucky that you weren't," Constance told her sincerely. "It's an experience I wouldn't wish on anyone."

"You're not going to try and say that all that broom shed rumour was true are you?" Hortense sneered.

Constance stared at her levelly. "If I could have used a memory erase spell on myself, I would have."

Hortense shook her head. "Oh no, not you Constance. You like to suffer; your day isn't complete unless you've endured some tragedy."

"Is that what you really think?"

The cat-like smile on Hortense's face grew wider. "The girl with the traumatic past! Did you really think that that would garner you any sympathy amongst your classmates, or an easy ride with the teachers? If you'd shown some emotion you might have made yourself a few more friends…" Hortense paused as she thought back. "But you were never after friends, were you Constance? Always wanting to be on your own; always wanting to sit and act like some kind of troubled martyr. I think your family were fortunate to be shot of you Constance; perhaps that's why they…"

Constance rose to her feet; poised, ready to cast.

"Constance, Constance," Hortense chided. "Casting spells at a member of the Guild? Surely you know that's forbidden by the Witches' Code."

Constance lowered her hands, fighting to regain control of her temper.

"You think I'd waste my time casting a spell on you?" Constance told her coldly. "You don't matter enough to bother with Hortense Spellbinder, you never did."

"I've been speaking to your colleagues during my visit here," Hortense continued on as though she hadn't heard Constance's words. "You don't exactly go out of your way to make yourself popular, do you? Another trait you seem to have taken with you from school. I don't imagine that anyone will shed any tears over your departure from this place."

"The trial isn't over yet," Constance reminded her in a low voice.

"But it isn't difficult to see the outcome," Hortense replied smoothly. "I can't see anyone having a single good word to say about you. You don't need me to hammer the nails into your coffin Constance; it looks as though the pupils and staff here will be able to do that for me."

Without waiting for a reply from Constance, Hortense stepped back out of the room and let the door slam shut with a heavy clang.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Apologies again for being an absolute donkey at uploading chapters. I don't want to sit here and make promises I can't keep...but I will do my best to get the rest of this story posted as soon as I can. There should be another part up before the end of the week._**

**_Thanks to everyone who's been so patient, and thanks for taking the time to review. I really have appreciated it._**

**_SD_**

* * *

Mildred paced back and forth across the room. Enid and Maud looked on, concerned that their friend was worrying too much. She'd been in an agitated state since she'd entered the room.

"They can't stop HB from being a witch," Maud spoke up finally; striking at what she thought was the heart of Mildred's current unease.

Mildred stopped her pacing and turned to face her friends, folding her arms across her chest.

"They can," she told Maud firmly. "And it looks as though that's exactly what Miss Spellbinder is trying to achieve."

"Well we have to stop her," Maud said decisively.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Enid asked her flatly. "And more to the point, do we want to?"

Mildred looked at her friend in shock.

"Oh come on Millie," Enid sought to justify what she had said. "We all know what HB's like. Can't you honestly say that you wouldn't enjoy school more if HB wasn't in it?"

Mildred opened her mouth to answer Enid and then promptly shut it again.

"You see," Enid told her firmly. "I'm right."

Mildred shook her head. "But I don't want her to lose her status as a witch. She might be scary and impossible to please but I wouldn't wish anything that bad to happen to her." Mildred shivered. "I just can't imagine HB without her magic; it's just wrong somehow."

Maud nodded in agreement with her friend.

"And I don't trust that Miss Spellbinder. I think she's up to something."

Mildred thought about telling Maud and Enid about her theory that Miss Spellbinder had cast some sort of spell on her, but she wasn't sure that she wanted the information to get out before she had some kind of proof. Enid was a good friend, but she was rather quick with her mouth at times. It would be just like her to blurt it out and get all of them in a lot more trouble.

Mildred bit her lip. "I think I'm going to talk to Miss Drill, see if she can't help us."

Enid let out a short laugh. "What's Miss Drill going to be able to do? It's not as though she's the greatest authority on maintaining witch status!"

Mildred shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "But I'm convinced that Miss Spellbinder's up to something and I think we're going to need help to prove it."

Maud looked quizzically at her friend. "What makes you think that Miss Drill will help? She's never exactly had the best of relationships with HB?"

"I know," Mildred admitted. "But I can't ask Miss Cackle or Miss Bat to stand against a member of the Witches' Guild. They'd never be able to do it, even they wanted to."

"You've got a point." A nasty thought struck Enid. "But if Miss Spellbinder finds out that we're up to something then she could take away our witch status." Enid looked down at her feet. "You're asking a lot."

Mildred looked from Enid to Maud and saw the trepidation on their faces.

"I don't expect either of you to help me," she told them firmly. "But I just can't sit back and let Miss Spellbinder do what she's doing. I'm going to try and do something about it."

Maud looked at the determined expression on her friend's face.

"I'm sure I'm going to regret this…" she replied quietly. "But I'm with you... Enid?"

Enid stared at the pair of them for a good few seconds.

"Let me get this straight; you want us to help out the one teacher who has spent the best part of the last two years trying to get Millie expelled and has made my life a misery with impossibly hard homework?"

"That's about the size of it," Mildred admitted.

Enid shook her head. "I must be crazy," she told her friends. "But count me in."

* * *

"How would you describe your relationship with Miss Hardbroom?"

Imogen glanced briefly in the direction of her colleague but Constance was still staring motionless ahead, as though she were somehow removed from the proceedings.

"Miss Drill?" Hortense pressed. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Sorry." Imogen switched her attention back to Hortense. "If I'm honest, I've never had the easiest of relationships with Constance."

"Honesty is exactly what we're after," Hortense told her smoothly. "Would you care to elaborate on your reply? In what way is your relationship with Miss Hardbroom 'difficult'?"

"I never said it was difficult," Imogen replied quickly. "I said that it wasn't the easiest." Imogen glanced quickly at Constance again. "My colleague is something of a perfectionist. That can be hard to measure up to."

"So she forces her impossibly high standards onto you?"

"That's not what I said," Imogen argued.

"So you're saying that she doesn't expect you to treat the pupils in exactly the same way as she does?"

Imogen opened her mouth to reply, trying desperately to think of someway of phrasing the answer that didn't sound bad.

"I'm sure she'd like me to treat the girls in exactly the same way that she does, but I think she realises that everyone has to do things in their own way."

Hortense flicked casually through the notes that she had in front of her.

"I see here that you and Miss Hardbroom chaperoned some of the girls on a trip this year."

Imogen felt the colour drain from her face.

"Yes," she replied quietly.

"And that trip went by without a hitch?"

Imogen searched for the right words. "Everything turned out fine," she answered cautiously, not sure how far she could stretch the truth in the presence of the honesty spell.

"Really!" Hortense's tone made it clear that she didn't believe a word. She consulted her notes again. "According to the local news for the area, there was a particularly heavy fall of snow…interesting when you take into account that this trip was in May!"

Imogen closed her eyes. "There was some slight exuberance from some of the girls but it wasn't allowed to get out of hand."

Hortense turned her attention to Constance.

"Would you perhaps like to tell me your version of the events?"

"The girls indulged in some ill-advised magic and I had to put a stop to it," Constance replied flatly.

Hortense arched an eyebrow. "But for the magic to get so out of hand that it registered with the meteorological society, it must have been brewing for quite some time. Just why did it take you so long to act?"

Imogen crossed her fingers and hoped that Constance would pick her words carefully.

"Miss Drill had insisted that the trip was to be one without magic."

Imogen's little bubble of hope burst as she heard the answer, and she felt rather than saw Hortense's attention fix itself back on her.

"You insisted that the trip be one without magic?" she questioned. "You were on a school outing with a group of young witches and an experienced practitioner of the arts and you decreed that no magic was to be used?"

Imogen shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, feeling for the moment that she was the one on trial.

"This was an outward bound trip," she tried to explain. "I wanted the girls to learn how to survive in the wilderness using their wits, not relying on their magic."

Hortense tipped her head slightly to one side. "And you are aware that this is a school for witches?"

Imogen suppressed a sigh. "I thought that it would benefit the girls."

"You thought that depriving young witches of their magic would in some way benefit them?" The incredulity was plain in her voice. "Would it be more accurate to say that you are uncomfortable in the presence of magic?"

"That's not the case," Imogen replied quickly. "I don't have a problem with magic."

"Would it perhaps be more accurate to say that you have a problem with certain witches and the way that they use their magic?"

Imogen wanted to reply that that just wasn't the case, but found that she was unable to do so.

Hortense raised her eyebrows as she waited for an answer, knowing full well that Imogen was being affected by the honesty spell.

"Miss Drill, if you would please answer the question."

Imogen swallowed and tried to put a sentence together. "It would be fair to say that I am still capable of being surprised by some of the things that people around here can achieve."

"Do these things scare you?"

Imogen pulled a face. "I'd say that some of them take some getting used to."

Hortense frowned as she realised the game that Imogen was playing. If she was going to get the answers that she wanted, she was going to have to play things a different way.

"I'd like you to tell me about the events leading up to parent's evening?" Hortense abruptly changed the topic of conversation.

"Why?" Imogen's mouth was dry with fear.

"Why?" Hortense's voice was incredulous. "Because I want to know how you saw what happened on that day. As a non-magical member of staff, your view is unique."

Imogen moistened her lips. "The whole day is a bit of a haze," she chose her words carefully.

Hortense leant forward, placing her hands on the table in front of her.

"Well then tell me the parts that you do remember."

Imogen ran back over the day and tried to choose a good place to start.

"I met up with Miss Bat in the staff room and she was looking smart in her gown…" she began but Hortense waved at her to be quiet.

"Back Miss Drill, back. I want to know what happened during the day, not just the evening itself."

"But nothing happened."

Hortense smiled. "Humour me."

"I don't see what any of it has to do with the entity," she argued. "I don't see what relevance it can possibly have to the events of the evening."

"Oh very well," Hortense sighed theatrically. "Since you are so determined that I should spell it out. I want to know what you remember about the file whose disappearance from the WTC you helped to orchestrate." She leant forward. "Has that spelt things out clearly enough for you?"

Imogen swallowed and glanced nervously at Constance before beginning.

"I assume that you are referring to the fact that I obtained Miss Hardbroom's personnel file from the WTC?'

Hortense clasped a hand to her chest.

"Well I do consider the action to be a little unusual," she relied. "I mean it isn't the usual thing that one teacher does to another...Well that's certainly true within witch schools, heaven alone knows what they do in the sort of schools that you're used to."

Imogen fought to retain her temper.

"This was an exceptional thing to do," she told Hortense through gritted teeth.

"So what precisely were you planning to do once you obtained this file?" Hortense asked calmly.

Imogen stared down at her hands, feeling more than a little foolish. "I was planning to read it."

"Why?"

Imogen raised her head. "Why?" She was genuinely confused.

"Why would you want to read a file about a fellow member of staff? You've known her for a couple of years now. Surely you could just ask her a question if you wanted to know something."

Imogen searched for the right words. "Constance likes to keep herself to herself."

"And you wanted to know what secrets she had?"

"No…" Imogen protested. "Yes," she added in a much quieter tone, the spell in the air forcing her to tell the truth.

"And did you read this file once you'd laid your hands on it?"

"Davina said that we shouldn't." Imogen closed her eyes immediately as she realised that she'd just dragged Davina into the situation.

"So Miss Bat didn't look at the file," Hortense carried on smoothly, seeming to gloss over Miss Bat's involvement. "Did you? Did you look at the file?"

Imogen opened and closed her mouth, desperately searching for a way to answer the question without lying.

"Did you or did you not look at the file?" Hortense persisted. "It's a simple enough question." She paused again before repeating. "Did you look at the file?"

Imogen looked down at her feet. "I don't know," she finally admitted.

"You don't know." The words were spoken slowly and deliberately. "You don't know?" Hortense's voice shot up, the disbelief dripping off every word. "Are you seriously expecting anyone to believe that you 'don't know' whether you looked at the file or not? Come on Miss Drill, what do you take us for? Did you or did you not look at that file?"

Imogen took a deep breath. "I don't remember everything that happened that day," she admitted. "Maybe the entity…"

"You are not here to guess at what may or may not have happened," Hortense warned her. "I want to know why you're so reticent about revealing what was in that file."

"I don't remember looking at the file," Imogen growled.

"What do you remember?" Hortense persisted. "What do you remember exactly?"

Imogen pushed her hands through her hair. "I don't remember anything 'exactly',"

"And why do you think that is?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know," Hortense repeated slowly. "And why do I find that a little hard to believe?"

Imogen shrugged her shoulders.

"So this file...this file that you don't remember reading...where exactly is it now?"

"It was returned to the WTC."

"Are you sure about that? Absolutely certain?"

A look of confusion crossed Imogen's face.

"Yes...I mean that was what I was told...I had no reason to disbelieve it."

"And if I were to tell you that the file in question is no longer anywhere to be found...would you be surprised?"

"What?" Imogen looked around. "Of course I'd be surprised."

"So you've had nothing to do with its continued absence from the WTC?"

"Nothing at all," Imogen fought back against the frustration that was rising within.

"So a file that you went to great lengths to get hold of, you claim not to remember reading and you also expect the court to believe that you have no idea of where that file is now! Come come Miss Drill why on earth should we believe you? Why on earth should we believe such an obvious piece of flagrant lying?"

"I don't remember anything because I think that there is some sort of memory erase spell on me," Imogen snapped, her patience with Hortense finally reaching breaking point.

Hortense folded her arms. "Well that's very interesting...A memory erase spell...That's a very serious thing to suggest."

Imogen let her head drop into her hands. She'd wanted to avoid mentioning her fears about the memory erase spell, but Hortense had led her into a trap and she'd fallen for it... hook, line and sinker.


	15. Chapter 15

**_As promised, another part. If you can't recall the spell I make mention of in this chapter...it made its appearance back in Chapter 1. I know that seems like a lifetime ago LOL_**

* * *

Hortense paced slowly back and forth across the room.

"The Witches' Code sets out very clearly the way that magic should and should not be used. It teaches us that magic is a craft; an art form that is to be studied, and above all, respected." Hortense let the words sink in before she continued. "Every young witch learns that it is not acceptable to cast spells on a fellow witch without extreme provocation and that resorting to magic is only to be done if all other avenues have been exhausted. What it states in even plainer language is that magic is not to be used upon the non-magical; it teaches us that to cast spells on the non-magical is a cowardly, underhand way to act. We witches have a natural advantage over our, less able, non-magical fellows; magic should never be used against them, except in very rare, exceptional circumstances."

Satisfied that she had the group wrapt, Hortense continued.

"We all know that this is so and yet it seems to me that Miss Hardbroom has acted contrary to those very basic tenets."

Hortense walked around to the front of the hall.

"It has come to the attention of the court that Miss Drill, a non-magical member of staff, is unable to recall the events leading up to parents evening." Hortense stood in front of Constance's chair. "Do you know anything about this particular instance of memory loss?"

"I do," Constance replied flatly, refusing to let Hortense's words affect her.

Hortense plastered an expression of fake surprise on her face.

"Are you saying that you are aware of magic being cast upon a person unable to prevent such an action?"

"I am."

The edges of Hortense's mouth curled into a smile. "And the name of the person who cast this spell?"

Constance spared Hortense a momentary glance; a look that served to show Hortense exactly what Constance thought of her colleague's tactics.

"You know full well that the spell was cast by me."

Imogen pushed her hands through her hair and let out a long breath; her mind was racing and she wasn't sure exactly how she felt. Constance had just admitted what Imogen had suspected all along, that she had in fact cast a memory erase spell. Imogen had wanted confirmation that she wasn't just imagining things and she wasn't going mad, but now that she had heard the confession from Constance's lips, she couldn't help but wonder what else her colleague might have done. She shook the thought from her head. Constance might be many things but Imogen had never really thought of her as dishonest before.

Hortense allowed a small smile to form on her face. It looked as though Constance was walking right into the trap she had baited. There was one more card she had to play; one more piece of information that would hammer the nail further into Constance's career coffin.

"So Constance, just how many people within this school have you cast spells on?"

Hortense lifted a hand as Constance opened her mouth to reply. "To make it simpler, why don't you just tell me the people you've cast spells on in the past month without their knowledge?"

Constance narrowed her eyes. "I am not in the habit of casting spells upon people."

"Just tell me the number of people Constance. Or have there been so many that you've lost track?"

"There has only been one," Constance replied flatly.

Hortense arched an eyebrow. "And you make it sound as though that's a reasonable thing."

"I did what I was asked to do."

"What you were asked to do?" Hortense's tone was one of disbelief. "Are you seriously suggesting that Imogen Drill, a non-magical member of staff, asked you to cast a memory erase spell on her?"

"Believe what you want," Constance told her coldly.

Hortense turned and took a few paces away from Constance.

"Of course we can't ask Miss Drill to verify this, can we? How convenient."

Constance let out a breath. "Do you always see intrigue where there isn't any?"

Hortense spun to face Constance. "Do you always rely on magic to clear up your problems?"

The two witches glared at each other with barely disguised hatred.

"If we could proceed…" Verna suggested, shuffling in her seat. "There are some… pressing matters that I need to attend to and I'd appreciate it if you would get to the point Hortense."

Hortense shot a glance at Verna and then resumed her questioning.

"I'd say that you weren't being completely honest with us Constance."

"Would you?" Constance replied, a bored tone to her voice.

"It appears to me that there's more than one spell you've cast on members of this school within the past month."

Constance narrowed her eyes, wondering just where Hortense was going with her line of questioning.

"Then it would appear that you know more about my activities than I do."

Hortense let out a short laugh. "Don't say that you've already forgotten about it? Let me refresh your memory." Hortense folded her arms and met Constance's gaze. "It seems that you cast a spell upon Mildred Hubble in the past few days. Do you deny that?"

Constance shook her head as she realised what Hortense was alluding to.

"And is Mildred Hubble aware of the spell that she is currently under?"

"It's not that kind of spell," Constance replied hotly.

"Just answer the question," Hortense told her calmly. "Is Mildred Hubble aware that you cast a spell over her?"

"I would imagine that she isn't," Constance replied somewhat reluctantly. "However the nature of the spell should…."

"Stop trying to make excuses Constance."

Verna coughed nervously and looked down at Constance.

"I think perhaps you should remove the spell."

Constance shook her head. "That spell is there for a very good reason. It is my belief that..."

"Constance, Constance, we are not here to listen to your view of morality. The straight fact of the matter is that you have placed yet another spell on an unsuspecting individual. I suggest that you remove the spell this instant."

Constance glared at Hortense before raising her hands and shaking her fingers out. She muttered beneath her breath and after a few moments lowered her hands again.

"I find it more than a little interesting that you place a spell on the one person that allegedly helped you defeat the magical entity that invaded the school."

Constance frowned. "It was as a direct result of the entity that the spell was cast. Mildred was…"

Hortense raised a hand. "Whatever the professed intentions, you surely cannot sit there and defend a flagrant disregard for one of the fundamental rules of the Witches' Code." Hortense turned her attention to Verna. "I think that Mildred Hubble should be called to this trial as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Verna waved her hands. "But do you think that we could call a break in the proceedings now? I really do have a more pressing matter to attend to."

"Of course," Hortense smiled thinly. "I think we've made progress here today."

Imogen stared down at the floor and wished that a hole would open up in the ground and swallow her. Despite her best efforts it looked as though she had done nothing but make matters worse. What had shocked her though was the admission, finally, that some sort of memory erase spell had been cast on her. She was torn between anger at Constance for casting it, and concern that there might have been a very good reason for that spell being cast. Constance had been quite specific about it being a spell that had been requested and Imogen couldn't help but wonder what might have caused her to make that request in the first place.

She watched as Constance stood and departed the room; her posture as erect as ever; not showing any outward signs at being affected by the way that events were playing out. She then turned her attention to Hortense; there was something about the woman that still unnerved her, and she couldn't help but wonder where she had learnt the information about the spell that had been cast on Mildred. Whatever the pupils view of their potions teacher; Imogen couldn't imagine any of them offering up information to Hortense. Imogen watched her leave the room and made a promise to herself to have a word with Mildred at the first available opportunity.

* * *

Mildred sat up straight as Maud elbowed her in the ribs. She blinked and tried to work out where she was.

"What…" she began to ask only for Maud to motion for her to be quiet.

"Shhh," Maud warned her and pointed towards the front of the hall.

Mildred blinked again and then followed Maud's direction. She was sitting in the Great Hall and Miss Cackle was standing at the front, in the middle of a speech.

Mildred looked around her; everyone in the school was present and seemed to be listening intently. She shook her head; realising that she must have dozed off. She offered up a silent prayer, thankful that HB hadn't noticed her nodding off. She craned her neck, trying to see what the potions teacher was up to.

"Mildred Hubble, what are you doing?" Mildred cringed as she heard the familiar scathing tones of HB. "Sit still girl."

Mildred immediately froze.

"What are you trying to look at?" HB questioned and Mildred struggled to find an answer.

"Were you perhaps thinking that I shouldn't be here? Were you perhaps thinking that something was wrong?"

Mildred shrunk back in her seat as HB rose to her feet and walked to the front of the stage, Miss Cackle automatically moving out of the way.

"Come here Mildred," HB ordered, but Mildred found that she was unable to obey.

"I'll not tell you again."

Mildred forced herself to her feet and tried to block out the muttering and murmuring she could hear coming from the other pupils. She felt as though she were wading through treacle as she made her way to the front.

Finally, she found herself standing in front of Miss Hardbroom. She dropped her gaze and stared down at her boots.

"What are we going to do with you Mildred?" HB asked coldly. There was a pause and then HB let out a sigh. "Oh for heaven's sake, look at me when I'm talking to you."

Mildred obediently raised her eyes. They widened in terror as she took in the black eyes that stared blankly back at her.

"No!" she cried.

Miss Hardbroom laughed hollowly back at her.

"What's the matter Mildred? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Mildred wanted to turn and run from the hall; she couldn't understand why no one else was reacting. Panicking, she turned to see if Miss Cackle had noticed anything untoward.

"Miss Cackle?"

"What is it Mildred?"

Miss Cackle turned to face her, lifting her gaze to meet Mildred's.

Mildred felt the scream escape from her throat as she took in the black eyes that stared at her. She spun on her heel to run from the hall and the gaze of all the pupils fell upon her…Mildred felt the blood freeze in her veins as she realised that everyone's eyes were nothing but black-filled hollows.

Mildred sat bolt upright in her bed, her face damp with perspiration. She stared around the room, trying to see into the depths of the shadows in her room. With shaking hands, she fumbled for the box of matches that she'd taken to keeping on her bedside table. She managed to light a match on the third attempt and moments later her room felt safer as candlelight showed her that nothing untoward had been lurking in the darkness.

Tabby opened an eye and regarded his mistress carefully. His sleep had been disturbed a lot recently but after the last couple of nights, he thought that everything had returned to normal. His preferred action would be to close his eye and drift back off to sleep, but there was a nagging voice in his head that told him that his owner needed a little comforting. Yawning widely, he rose to his feet and arched his back, stretching out his tired muscles.

Mildred welcomed the warm purring of Tabby as he pushed his head under her hand, looking for attention. She pulled him onto her lap and buried her face into his fur. The dream had come back; after the peace of the last few nights, she was beginning to think that she was over the worst, only now it had come back as strongly as before.

She tried to take a deep breath and calm her nerves but the images in her dreams had been so clear.

She looked at the candle that was flickering in the draught and hoped that it would last until morning.

* * *

In the quiet of the dungeon room, Constance allowed her eyes to close and slowly leant her head forward, massaging her forehead with her fingers. There was a dull thrumming pain in her head and she just couldn't shift it. She felt tired, more than that, she felt physically drained. It wasn't a sensation she was used to and she wished that it would go away.

She slowly raised her head and opened her eyes, looking around at the bare walls of the room; there was something else in the room with her. There was a presence in the air; she was certain of it. She glanced towards the corners of the room as though expecting to see something rising out of the shadows.

There was, of course, nothing there and she shook her head, trying to dismiss the feeling as an over-reaction. Of course there was nothing there, how could there be?

She closed her eyes one more time and reached out with her mind, pushing past the pain in her head, attempting to prove to herself that she was mistaken. She was just about to open her eyes and relax when she felt a presence in her head. It was just the merest of touches but it was there. Her eyes snapped open and her spell-casting fingers immediately shot out; all her senses on high alert. If she was right then this was trouble and trouble on a large scale.

She felt something move within her and gave an involuntary shudder; her worst fears realised. The entity **had** left part of itself hidden within her after its last visit. She had tried to tell herself that it wasn't anything, that there wasn't a shadow inside; that she wasn't refraining from using magic because she felt its presence with every spell she cast but she'd known all along that she was lying to herself. It had been there and now it was trying to make its way back to the outside world. The spell she had been forced to lift in the Great Hall earlier had simply given it the final strength that it needed to force its way back into existence.

The entity swirled and whirled out of the shadows; its form pulsating as it fought to attain a human form.

Constance watched as it billowed across the room.

"Not up to your previous efforts," she told it flatly, not letting it see her fear.

It crackled angrily at her and shifted again; fighting to gain the strength it needed to stabilize its shape.

The entity explored the air around it, searching out the magic that it needed to gain strength. It felt the remnants of magic in the walls and the aftermath of spells in the air; but there was something else. It stopped its explorations and reformed into its human outline. It had something it didn't have before; it had something it was sure it could use to its advantage.

Constance watched the entity warily, waiting for it to gather itself together before she acted. She clenched and unclenched her fingers, feeling the magic within her begin to build. Just a few more seconds and then she would banish it once and for all.

As it swarmed and whirled into the centre of the room, Constance concentrated on the entity and drew her strength together. There was no need to intone the spell this time; she had enough power within her to banish it. She narrowed her eyes and channelled all her energy in the direction of the entity.

Nothing happened. Constance felt the magic build up in its usual way, but there was no charge of release, no spark of magic from her fingers.

Constance looked towards the entity, fear forming in the pit of her stomach.

A jagged shaft of pain arrowed its way though her head. She let out a gasp and clutched her hands to her head, as if that in someway could contain the pain.

She felt something swim in front of her eyes and she shook her head in an attempt to clear it. The pain wouldn't let up and she pressed her hands harder against her skull.

Through the roar of the pain, she heard a deep chuckle of laughter come from the entity.

"Did no-one tell you of the spell that was placed on this room?" it asked her in a deep rasping tone. "The spell that prevents the occupant of the room from using her magic?" It swirled and whirled closer and closer. "It seems that the Witches' Guild doesn't altogether trust you."

It swirled around Constance, its hungry strands of energy crackling with expectation. "I can't say that I blame it."

Constance tried to raise her head, but the pain was too great. If the entity was telling the truth, then there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her magic had kept it at bay last time, now there was nothing standing in its way. She closed her eyes and fought back the tears that pricked at her eyes.

The entity sensed victory and moved in closer, its tendrils of energy wrapping themselves around the witch and rejoining with the remnants it had left behind after its first encounter with her. Now it could feed and there was nothing to stop it.


	16. Chapter 16

Constance blinked and tried to examine her surroundings, she was certain that her eyes were open but she could see nothing in front of her; there was nothing to be seen; no shadows, not the merest sliver of light anywhere…just blackness, pure unbroken blackness. The blackness was not the only abnormality she had to contend with. By itself, it was something that could be coped with, but this lack of vision was accompanied by a complete loss of sound. She strained her ears but could hear nothing, could sense nothing. It was as though she was completely cut off from the rest of the world in some kind of total sensory deprivation.

She strained her eyes and tried to make out the world around her but there was nothing. There was only blackness, blackness and silence. She knew that this had to

be the doing of the entity. She didn't understand what it wanted, but she was certain that it was somehow responsible.

Her head thumped relentlessly and Constance took it to be the presence of the entity in her mind. She wasn't certain how long she had been unconscious for, but upon waking she had found herself trapped in the silent, empty void.

She'd tried calling out to the entity but her voice had died away as though there were no air to carry it further than her own hearing. She was certain that the entity didn't have the power to move her physically, it must, she reasoned, be playing with her mind, trying to drive her out of her senses.

Constance would be the first to admit to herself that she had never been a great one for company. She had never felt the need to surround herself with others; she'd always thought of herself as self-sufficient, not needing the acceptance of others to feel at home in the world. Now however, she wanted human company more than anything else, just the simple presence of another to prove to herself that she was not going mad.

* * *

Mildred knocked gently upon the door of Miss Cackle's private room. She felt a little nervous as she did so; pupils were not permitted in this part of the castle and just climbing the stairs had felt like an intrusion. She heard muttering from within and then the sound of footsteps on the stone floor. Without thinking, Mildred smoothed out her clothes, trying to make sure that she at least made a good impression.

The door creaked open slightly on badly oiled images and Amelia's head appeared around the small opening.

"Mildred Hubble?" Her voice registered surprise and she opened the door wider and slipped out into the corridor, pulling the door behind her before Mildred could glance into the room.

"What can I do for you at this hour?"

"Look…" Mildred was beginning to think that maybe she had made a mistake in coming to see Miss Cackle at this late hour. "Maybe I should come and see you tomorrow Miss. I didn't mean to disturb you"

Amelia looked at the young pupil over the top of her glasses and she registered the look of worry on her face.

"You're here now," she said in what she hoped was a welcoming way. "You may as well tell me what's worrying you."

"Well…"Mildred searched around for the right words. "There are scratching sounds coming from Miss Hardbroom's room."

Amelia looked sternly at Mildred.

"And what were you doing near Miss Hardbroom's room?"

Mildred's eyes widened in panic. "I had this nightmare Miss," she explained hurriedly. "And I couldn't get back to sleep. I just had to check that everything was alright…I was on my way here and there was this scratching Miss…and I got to thinking about Miss Hardbroom's cat."

"Morgana!" There was a note of horror in Miss Cackle's voice; she had completely forgotten all about Constance's cat. "Oh my word. Mildred you were right to come and see me; the poor animal must be going mad."

Amelia closed her door behind her and scurried off down the corridor.

"Come along Mildred, I dread to think what kind of mood that poor cat will be in."

* * *

Amelia felt the magic in the air as she approached Constance's room. She turned to regard Mildred.

"You didn't try and open the door, did you?"

Mildred shook her head quickly and Amelia smiled inwardly. It was a common rumour within the school that Constance had placed a particularly nasty spell on her door, designed to trap any pupil that had the audacity to try to get into her room. What the pupils didn't realise was that it was Constance herself who had spread that rumour in order to keep prying eyes away, and to discourage dares being set by the younger pupils.

"Just as well," she told the young girl solemnly.

Mildred bit her lip and finally gave into her urge to ask a question.

"Is there really a magical lock on the door?"

Amelia turned to regard her pupil and looked down at her over the top of her glasses.

"Do you really expect me to answer that?"

Mildred shook her head.

"Well then I suggest you stand back whilst I remove the spell."

Mildred immediately ducked behind her headmistress and Amelia tried very hard to keep the smile from her face. She raised her arms and pointed at the plain wooden door. Muttering beneath her breath, she lifted the simple locking spell and then stepped towards the door.

She twisted the handle and then pushed open the door. A streak of black sped before her eyes and vanished before she had time to register it properly. She swiftly pulled the door shut again and replaced the locking spell.

She turned to see Mildred calling the cat.

"I don't know if she'll come to you," she warned Mildred. "Morgana is something of a one-witch cat."

Mildred made what she hoped were encouraging noises and crouched down, holding her hand out, hoping to entice Morgana in. It was a trick that usually worked with Tabby, but then again Mildred somehow doubted that HB's cat was going to fall for something so simple.

"Hey Morgana," Mildred spoke softly as she saw a pair of yellow eyes glinting at her from the shadows. "We just want to make sure that you are ok."

Morgana padded out of the shadows and into a pool of light that spilled down from one of the narrow windows. She sat and curled her tail around her until it covered her paws. She looked up at Mildred as though waiting for her to say something.

Amelia moved to stand behind Mildred.

"I think she wants you to tell her where Miss Hardbroom is."

Mildred swallowed nervously; it certainly looked as though Morgana was waiting to hear something. Mildred licked her lips and tried to think of what to say. A thought crossed her mind that she was as nervous facing HB's cat as she was HB herself but she tried to push that thought away.

"I'm sorry that you've been left on your own," she began. "It's just that some strange things have been happening here of late."

Mildred turned her head to look up at Miss Cackle.

"Do you think we could take Morgana down to see Miss Hardbroom?"

Amelia frowned; she was certain that Hortense would object strongly to the idea.

"I'm sure that we won't be breaking any rules," Mildred persisted. "It's not exactly Morgana's fault that Miss Hardbroom is where she is."

"You have a point," Amelia agreed, secretly liking the chance to grab a few words with her colleague that a trip to the cellars would undoubtedly result in. "Lead the way Mildred. I think we have a cat to reunite with her owner."

Mildred rose to her feet and took a pace towards Morgana but the cat rose to her feet and backed away, arching her back and making it clear that she didn't like the change in distance.

Mildred held up her hands and backed away a pace. She turned to face Miss Cackle.

"I don't think we're going to carry her anywhere."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps she'll follow you down there. She is a remarkably intelligent little animal."

"Yes Miss." Mildred turned around and walked slowly towards the door, not wholly convinced that Morgana wouldn't simply launch an attack on her retreating back.

After a few paces, she turned her head to check that Morgana was still behind her and the cat stopped and looked up at her, as though questioning why there was a change in pace.

"Sorry," Mildred found herself apologising.

Amelia fought to suppress the smile that sprang to her lips and followed the pair.

* * *

Mildred swallowed nervously as she rounded the bottom of the stairs. She turned to Miss Cackle for reassurance and was relieved to find that her headmistress was only a few paces behind.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this?" she admitted. "What if Miss Spellbinder finds us?"

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "This is **my** school Mildred," she reminded her pupil. "I don't see why I should have to ask permission to walk where I please."

Amelia stood in front of the closed door and pushed up the sleeves of her gown. It had been a while since she'd attempted to break into a room. Her mind flashed back unwanted images of a previous attempt at subterfuge and she quickly willed it away.

This was going to be more complicated than entering Constance's room; potentially there was some serious magic blocking her way.

Closing her eyes, Amelia concentrated on the door in front of her and tried to feel the magic in the air. She was somewhat surprised when nothing more than a simple alarm spell came to her attention. She muttered the lifting spell beneath her breath and then reached into the pocket in her gown for the key to the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a lilting voice came from somewhere behind her.

Amelia pushed the key back into her pocket, feeling for all the world like some kind of criminal caught in the act. She turned her head to see Verna making her way purposefully down the corridor.

"You two shouldn't be down here," she chided. "This area of the castle is strictly off limits for the duration of the trial." Verna blushed as she realised who she was talking to. "I'm sorry Miss Cackle," she flustered. "I know this must be very strange for you."

"That's something of an understatement," Miss Cackle replied dryly. "And as for why we're here, I'm sure even you can't object to Miss Hardbroom having her cat at her side for company?"

Verna cast her eyes to the shadows and caught a glimpse of bright yellow eyes glaring back at her. Her heart softened as she recalled her own cat, Arlo, who had only recently left her side after 16 years of loyal service.

"You'll have to be quick," she warned Miss Cackle. "Hortense won't like anyone spending time down here. It's against trial rules for anyone to talk to the accused whilst the trial is in progress."

"I'm well aware of that," Amelia assured Verna. "I promise you that we won't be long. We just want to reassure Morgana that nothing has happened to Constance."

Mildred watched as Verna closed her eyes and concentrated on the heavy wooden door in front of her. There was a low humming sound in the air, followed by a 'poof' and a choking cloud of green smoke.

"Sorry about that," Verna apologised sheepishly, as she waved a hand, trying to peer at Miss Cackle through the smoke. "You can open the door now."

"Thank you," Amelia gasped as she tried to avoid breathing in the noxious smelling smoke. She narrowed her eyes and scrambled around, trying to feel for the handle.

Finally her fingers found the heavy metal latch and she lifted the bar to open the door.

Morgana trotted expectantly into the room, knowing in the way that only cat's do that her mistress was inside.

Mildred followed the cat and couldn't help but smile. It was odd to think of anything being pleased to see HB. She was somewhat surprised when Morgana froze in her tracks and arched her back, hissing at the room's occupant.

Mildred looked at the cat, wondering just what had gotten into her.

"I'm sorry Miss," Mildred apologised as she entered the room, her eyes adjusting to the gloom and taking in the sight of her potions teacher sitting on a plain wooden chair that sat against the far wall.

Constance raised her head and waved the apology away.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here Mildred Hubble?" she replied flatly. "You are the last person who should be here, therefore it follows that you appear out of the ether." She turned her gaze to Morgana who was still hissing loudly in her direction.

"Nothing about this situation is normal. I can hardly blame Morgana for being affected by it."

Mildred turned her attention back to Morgana and watched the way that the cat's ears were laid flat upon her head, her back as arched as it could be. Something was seriously upsetting her and Mildred couldn't imagine what it was. Miss Cackle had described Morgana as a one-witch cat. Mildred wondered just what it was that had changed that.

Verna coughed nervously. "I really think you should be leaving?" she suggested.

"Just two more minutes," Amelia replied smoothly before quickly turning her attention to her colleague.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concern plain in her voice.

Constance raised an eyebrow. "Well it's not all thumb screws and endless questions if that's what you were imagining."

"No… I…" Amelia struggled for the right words. "We…that is I… was concerned about you."

Constance waved the fear away. "Everything is fine Amelia. We just have to let this ridiculous charade run its course."

"If you're sure?"

"I'm sure," Constance replied smoothly.

"Well…" Amelia wasn't sure exactly what else to say, she had expected Constance to give voice to her displeasure at having to stay in such dark, dank accommodation, not to sit there and calmly accept it all without complaint.

"I really don't think that Hortense would approve of this," Verna found her voice again and tried to usher Amelia and Mildred from the room.

More than a little reluctantly Amelia tapped Mildred on the shoulder.

"We've done what we came to do," she whispered.

"But Morgana?" Mildred questioned, still not understanding the reactions of HB's cat.

"Never mind that now Mildred," Amelia told her. "We don't want Verna going to Hortense and making things worse for Constance."

Mildred had to reluctantly agree that Miss Cackle had a point and so she turned and let her headmistress lead her out of the small room, a thought still nagging away at the back of her mind that all was not right with HB.

* * *

In the pitch-black nothingness, Constance clung onto the thought of the school and the dungeon room that she was certain that she was still sitting in. She'd tried to explore the blackness, to discover if there was anything tangible there, but walking had led her nowhere. There had not been even the merest hint of a breeze to prove that she was moving at all. She had walked through the blackness and as far as she was aware, she had not gone anywhere at all. The silence was praying heavily on her mind, her feet made no sound upon the surface and her voice carried no echo, it simply melted into the air. She was truly alone, shut off from everything, with no means of getting back.

She shook her head and tried to stop the thoughts; panicking was going to get her nowhere. She had to play the game the entity's way and wait for it to decide that the time was right to tell her what it wanted. A nasty thought at the back of her mind told her that she already knew the answer to that question; she knew exactly what it wanted and she knew that there was no way that she could let it have it. The future, she reflected, was little short of bleak.

Without warning, there was a blinding flash of white light and Constance was plunged back into the small dungeon room. Sights and sounds assaulted her senses and she tried to cope with the sudden influx of information. Things felt strangely different though, as though she wasn't in control of what was going on. She tried to turn her head to check that nothing had changed but found that she was unable to make her body move. Panic rose within her and she fought to quell it; relieved that she was able to control at least one thing.

She watched as the door to the room opened and Verna appeared in the doorway.

Behind her, in the gloom, she could make out two figures. Somehow she was not surprised that one of them looked suspiciously like Mildred Hubble.

'Amelia,' she attempted to greet her colleague as the light from the corridor revealed the identity of the second visitor, but no sound came out of her mouth. The feeling of panic rose within her again and she was hard pushed to control it. She tried to speak once more but her body refused to respond to her commands. It was almost as though she was an intruder upon the scene, watching something that she had no right to see.

Her eyes widened as she watched Morgana pad gently into the room, her back suddenly arching and her ears lying flat against her head. She never thought that Morgana would react like this towards her, not Morgana.

Suddenly she heard her own voice replying to Amelia, heard herself telling Amelia that everything was fine. She wanted to shout out that everything wasn't alright, that there was something very very wrong indeed; a something that had the potential to end the lives of everyone within the school but she was unable to make herself heard.

All too soon, the door slammed shut and Constance was plunged back into blackness and a sudden deafening silence. She blinked furiously and tried to come to terms with the sudden sensory deprivation. As the door had slammed shut, she had somehow been sent straight back to the silent blackness that had existed ever since the entity had entered her head. She knew that somehow, the entity was controlling what she was seeing, therefore she reasoned; it could hear everything that she said.

"What is it that you want?" she asked the blackness, searching around for a visual reference point. "What is it that you are trying to do?"

She strained her ears, trying to listen out for any kind of a response, trying to listen out for any sound at all. There was nothing; no sound of any kind.

"What's the fun in doing all this if you don't at least gloat a little?"

She listened again, waiting to hear some sort of reply.

"Not like you to be so modest. I would have thought you would have been keen to brag about your little exploits."

There was no reply; nothing to break the silence that filled the blackness of the empty space that she was in. She tried to take a pace forward, to explore her surroundings, to see if there was any other sign of life, uncertain as to whether there was anywhere to walk or not.

"Not so confident now are we?" The voice came out of nowhere and Constance spun round to try to work out where it had come from.

"Where are you?" she demanded to know.

There was a low laugh; a low deep throaty chuckle that grew louder and louder until it filled her head.

"Where are you?" she asked again, refusing to allow herself to give into the panic that was rising.

"I am everywhere," the voice told her. "I am inside you, inside every part of you; as far as the others are concerned, I am you." It laughed again and Constance shivered involuntarily. "You thought yourself so smug last time, so powerful. Lets see how well you cope when you are not in control…not in control of anything; not even your own body."

"You won't win," she tried to keep her voice firm. "They will stop you."

"Will they?" There was more than a trace of humour in the entity's voice. "I think that you underestimate the motives of your colleagues?"

Constance shook her head. "They won't listen to you."

The entity let out a laugh. "Do you imagine that everyone shares your same straight-laced attitude towards what I have to offer? Do you imagine that my offer is so repulsive to everyone?"

"No-one here would listen to a single word you have to say," Constance spoke the words with as much confidence as she could muster; although she was beginning to fear that the entity had indeed made contact with someone.

The laugh grew louder and Constance clapped her hands to her ears as the level rose higher and higher.


	17. Chapter 17

"Mildred, you look terrible," Maud remarked as she ran into her friend on the way down to breakfast.

"Thanks," Mildred replied quietly, staring down at her boots and wishing that the dark rings beneath her eyes weren't quite so pronounced.

Maud regarded her for a few moments. "What's worrying you?" she finally asked.

Mildred shrugged her shoulders. "It's nothing. I guess this whole trial thing is starting to get to me."

"So it should," Ethel remarked as she pushed her way past the pair, not making any effort to walk around them. "It is after all your fault that it's happening."

"Shut up Ethel," Maud snapped. "No-one's interested in your snide comments."

"I wouldn't say that," Ethel replied, halting on the steps and turning to face her. "There are more than a few girls in this school who think that Mildred is to blame for what's going on."

"It's only those girls who are foolish enough to believe anything that you say."

Ethel glared at Maud. "I don't know why you always stick up for her. It's not as though she does anything but get you into trouble."

"At least I know I can trust her," Maud retorted. "At least she doesn't go round using magic at a time when the whole school is supposed to be under a lockdown."

Ethel narrowed her eyes.

"Oh yes," Maud continued, starting to get into her stride. "We know all about the magical letter that you sent Millie. If you want we can make sure that the whole school gets to hear about it."

Ethel opened her mouth to say something and then quickly changed her mind. She grabbed hold of Drusilla's arm and stormed off down the remaining steps.

Mildred watched as Ethel and Drusilla disappeared down the staircase.

"Something happened last night," she whispered to Maud. "I think its back."

"You think what's back?" Maud asked distractedly, still secretly pleased at winning the verbal battle against Ethel.

Mildred looked at Maud and repeated with a whisper. "It."

Maud's face immediately dropped as she realised what her friend was talking about. "Oh."

"And that's all you've got to say on the matter?"

Maud shrugged her shoulders. "Do you have any proof that it's back?"

"I had a nightmare last night."

"Millie, if I remember correctly you had a nightmare every night for your entire first term here."

"This is different," Mildred insisted. "I really think that there's something going on."

Maud looked at her friend. "And this isn't just because of the trial?"

Mildred shook her head. "This isn't just a dream; I'm sure of it."

Maud took a deep breath. "But have you got any way of proving it?"

"No, but it was all so clear in my dream. HB was back under the entity's control and then so was the whole school. We can't allow that to happen."

"It **was** only a dream," Maud reminded her. "Hang on…what did you mean 'back under the entity's control'?"

Mildred let out a small smile. "Did I not mention that part before?"

Maud folded her arms. "I think it's about time you told me everything that happened during Parents' evening….and I do mean everything."

Mildred looked around at the cold, draughty stairwell. "Not here, too many places for flapping ears to hear us....What about in the potions lab at lunch."

Maud nodded. "At lunch...and no excuses."

Mildred thought about mentioning her night-time venture down to the dungeons, but decided that it was probably best to try and take things one step at a time.

* * *

"I need to speak to Mildred Hubble," Hortense informed Miss Cackle as she swept into the staff room.

"And good morning to you too," Imogen muttered as she sipped at her orange juice; her patience with the Guild inspector beginning to wear particularly thin.

She did her best to ignore the black look that Hortense shot her and concentrated instead on the bowl of muesli in front of her.

"I know what you think of me," Hortense told Imogen smartly. "And quite frankly I couldn't care one way or the other. I have a job to do here and I intend to do it."

Imogen smiled. "Oh I think we've all seen your dedication to your job."

Hortense bristled. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Ladies, please." Amelia stepped in to stop the argument before it got out of hand. "We're all under a great deal of stress." She consoled Hortense. "I'm sure Imogen didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh yes she did," Imogen muttered under her breath as she pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite."

Amelia watched her go and then turned to smile at Hortense.

"Please excuse her."

"For what? It matters little to me what a non-witch makes of the trial. After all one can't expect her to understand the intricacies of the Witches' Code."

"Quite." Amelia attempted to get the conversation back to the topic in hand. "You wish to see Mildred Hubble?"

"Yes, I'd like to see her this afternoon. Have someone send her to the Great Hall; there are a few things I wish to discuss with her."

Amelia glanced up at the timetable that was pinned to the wall.

"That should be fine. I'll make sure that she's there."

"Good," Hortense told her smoothly as she turned to leave. "She and I have some interesting subjects to discuss…the first of which will undoubtedly relate to what she thought she was doing down in the dungeons at some Godforsaken time this morning." Hortense arched an eyebrow in Amelia's direction. "I don't suppose that you would care to comment on that?"

Amelia coughed nervously and brushed a few invisible crumbs from the table.

"It was all above board," she began. "Mildred had quite rightly pointed out that Miss Hardbroom's cat had been shut away for the best part of two days, and we were just reassuring the poor animal that everything was fine."

Hortense paused for a moment.

"You were reassuring the cat?" she questioned. "Would you be willing to stand up in court and say that?"

Amelia blushed, realising how foolish the notion sounded.

"We made no attempt to do anything other than reunite Morgana with her owner. There was certainly no intention to do anything to affect the outcome of the trial."

Hortense glared at her. "Be very careful with the steps that you take Miss Cackle; it is all too easy for one's actions to be misunderstood…and I would hate to think that your integrity would be called into question as a result."

With her point clearly made, Hortense turned on her heel and swept from the room. Amelia let out a sigh of relief and sagged back in her chair…The trial was certainly turning out to be something of a taxing affair.

* * *

As far as Mildred was concerned, the morning's lessons seemed to last for an interminable amount of time. She stared at the books in front of her and pretended to take in the English grammar that Miss Bat was supposed to be teaching. She'd never had the strongest grip on the subject, but she was fairly certain that she knew more about it than Miss Bat did.

She'd spent most of the time running through the things that she'd tell Maud. She realised that it was about time that she came clean and told the whole truth to someone she trusted before she had to stand in the Great Hall and be questioned by Miss Spellbinder. There were ways of saying things, and the last thing she wanted to do was to stand in front of the Guild inspector and waffle.

"Mildred? Mildred?" Miss Bat's voice flitted through the air and Mildred looked guiltily up from her notebook. The page was filled with drawings of the entity in its various forms, drifting and swirling across the page. Mildred shivered, she hadn't even been aware that she'd been drawing anything. She turned her attention to Miss Bat at the front of the class.

"Mildred, you are to make your way to the Great Hall at lunch," Miss Bat read from the note in her hand. "It appears that your presence is required there."

Mildred heard the intake of breath and then the shuffling in seats as everyone turned to look at her. She blushed a bright shade of crimson and tried to sink lower on her seat. She felt Maud's hand squeeze her arm and wished that she'd taken the opportunity to speak to her friend earlier. Now it looked as though she had run out of time.

"I don't think we've made ourselves very popular," Verna lamented as she placed her heavily laden lunch tray down on the table.

* * *

Hortense looked up from the papers she was reading with barely disguised annoyance, for the past two days, Verna had taken to bringing her meals into her room, as though she thought that her company was welcome.

"Well that's hardly surprising, is it?" she told the older witch impatiently. "We're examining the school and the way that it's run, I hardly imagined that they would welcome such an intrusion."

Verna poked at her food with a fork, lifting up a clump of decidedly soggy cabbage.

"They seemed pleased to see us when we arrived," she noted ruefully, trying to decide whether the grey meat she discovered beneath was supposed to be pork or lamb.

Hortense snorted.

"They were scared of what we'd find," she corrected her colleague. "Miss Bat and Miss Drill were afraid that their poking into the affairs of others would land them in trouble and Miss Cackle was convinced that we'd find some excuse to close her miserable little school down."

Verna placed her fork back on the tray and regarded her colleague.

"You were determined to find something wrong here, weren't you?"

Hortense clasped a hand to her heart in mock hurt.

"How can you say such things Verna?" she scolded before turning her attention back to the papers that sat on the desk. "This little lot speak for themselves. There have been strange goings on here and it's up to us to put a stop to them."

Verna speared a clump of boiled cabbage with her fork and munched on it thoughtfully for a few moments.

"I think you were a little harsh with your punishment," she finally admitted. "To take the magic away from a whole school…"

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "After what happened? What's to say that there are not still remnants of that entity lurking, even now, within the school?"

Verna looked around nervously, paying special attention to the shadows, which suddenly looked as though they were trying to hide something

"You don't really think that it might still be here, do you?"

"Do you really believe that a second year pupil with a reputation for mayhem and disorder, with no family background in the magical arts, has enough knowledge to perform an incantation to banish a magical entity? An entity that had already started to affect some of the strongest witches within the school?"

"When you put it like that…" Verna let the sentence run out.

"Exactly." Hortense prodded the papers. "She had to have had help in defeating the entity. I want to know why Constance is being so shy about that. I want to know what she did and why she is so desperate that we don't find out about it."

Verna regarded her colleague for a few moments. "And the fact that you were at college with

her and she was the academic you never were has nothing to do with it?"

Hortense's eyes narrowed. "Are you inferring that I have carried out this investigation in anything other than a professional manner?"

"No dear, no," Verna hastily apologised. "I just wondered why you seemed to be gunning for her."

"Gunning for her?" Hortense queried the use of the word. "I look at the evidence as it's presented before me and I see an individual who is keeping secrets from us. I want to know what those secrets are and why she's so keen to hide them." Hortense shook her head. "I want to know what someone like Constance Hardbroom is doing hiding at an academy like Cackles."

"Maybe she likes it here," Verna offered.

Hortense snorted. "Likes it? Likes it here? Here in this little backwater of a school? Oh no, that's not somewhere where one of Mistress Broomhead's most promising students ends up...not unless she's hiding from something." Hortense narrowed her eyes as she spotted a soggy piece of cabbage staining the corner of one of her papers. She bit back the comment that sprang to her lips and returned her attention to the work in front of her. The sooner she could figure out exactly what Constance was hiding from her, the sooner she could get away from both Cackle's, and Verna Hyssop.

* * *

Mildred had purposefully walked slowly down to the Great Hall at the appointed time. She had been hoping that she'd be able to enter the hall in the company of someone else...even Miss Bat would have been a reassuring presence at her side, but there was no-one in the staff room. If anyone at the trial had taken a break for lunch, then they had taken it earlier.

She glanced around at the empty corridors again, before finally raising a trembling hand and knocking on the heavy wooden doors.

Moments later the doors swept open and Mildred gulped as she found herself face to face with Miss Spellbinder.

"We've been expecting you," the inspector told her coldly, and in that second Mildred understood exactly why her mother had warned her that she should never watch horror films. There was something inherently scary about knocking on the doors of castles....even interior doors of castles....even in the middle of the day.

She swallowed nervously as Miss Spellbinder stood back to let her enter.

She heard the echoing sound that her boots made on the cold stone flags and wished that she could be somewhere else. She took in the layout of the room and realised that there was one empty chair to the right of Miss Hyssop. That had to be where she was heading...there was no way of getting out of the situation. Enid had hastily suggested that she fake a fainting fit, but one look at Miss Spellbinder's stony face told her that she wasn't a witch who would fall for such things.

She nodded in the direction of Miss Cackle and Miss Drill who both gave her a small smile of encouragement in return, and she made her way nervously to the empty chair.

She thought about trying to make eye contact with Miss Hardbroom who was sat bolt upright in another chair, but as making eye contact with HB was something that she'd spent the best part of two years trying to avoid, she thought that it probably wasn't a wise move.

She perched on the hard wooden chair and looked up at Miss Spellbinder, who immediately loomed over her.

"Mildred Hubble. How good of you to finally join us," Hortense began with a small smile on her face. "I'm very interested to hear your account of the events of parent's evening. I'm sure that what you have to say will be illuminating to us all."

Mildred's eyes widened and she stared silently up at the inspector.

"There is precious little time to spare, so I suggest that we get straight to the matter in hand.... Does Miss Hardbroom frighten you?" Miss Spellbinder glared at Mildred and Mildred immediately shrank back in her seat. "Well?"

Mildred swallowed nervously and turned her head, looking at the impassive expression on the face of her potions teacher.

"Sometimes," she admitted. "But…"

"Just answer the question that's asked," Hortense told her firmly. "I need to have a full understanding of the relationship that exists between the two of you."

Mildred swallowed nervously and wished that HB wasn't in the room.

"Does Miss Hardbroom ever frighten you?" Hortense repeated; her voice a little firmer.

Mildred nodded. "Yes," she answered in a small voice.

Hortense smiled to herself at the admission and turned to face Constance, ready to make some scathing remark about her colleague's attitude towards her pupils.

"But Miss Hardbroom saved my life," Mildred spoke up. She sank lower in her seat as Hortense swung back round to face her.

"Did I ask you to speak?" she snarled; her usual cool tones lost amid her anger at being interrupted.

"I'm sorry Miss Spellbinder," Mildred stumbled and turned to look up at Verna. "It just seems unfair that I can't…"

"Silence girl," Hortense snapped. "Now is not the time…"

"One moment." Verna waved for Hortense to be quiet. "You say that Miss Hardbroom saved your life?"

Mildred nodded furiously. "When the entity was threatening to take over the school, Miss Hardbroom did everything she could to stop it. She saved the school."

Hortense rolled her eyes. "And who caused the entity to be within the school in the first place?"

Mildred's expression of hope dropped and she played nervously with the end of her plaits.

"I never meant to cause any trouble."

"That wasn't what I meant," Hortense purred, now fully back in control of her emotions. "Where did you find the book containing the perception altering spell?"

Mildred looked down at her feet. "In a room at the back of the library."

"And whose room is that?"

Mildred shrugged her shoulders. Hortense smiled.

"Oh I think you know exactly whose room that is Mildred Hubble...don't you?"

Mildred shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Well?" Hortense demanded to know.

"It's Miss Hardbroom's room," Mildred mumbled.

"Exactly. If Miss Hardbroom hadn't brought such dangerous volumes into the school, then the whole sorry affair would never have happened." Hortense turned up the pressure. "Isn't that true?"

"Well…" Mildred struggled to find an answer.

"Isn't it true?"

"I suppose…."

"Exactly," Hortense was on a roll now. "If the books hadn't been in the school, you would never have cast that spell, the entity would never have been attracted to the school and we wouldn't be gathered here today having this conversation."

Mildred looked helplessly around the room, hoping that someone was going to offer up some words that could help her out.

"Whilst we're on the subject of the entity…" Hortense decided to take advantage of Mildred's uneasy state. "Perhaps you'd care to explain why you waited so long before casting the reversal spell?"

"I couldn't remember the exact words of the spell," Mildred admitted.

"And yet, according to Miss Hardbroom's version of the events, you are the one who banished the entity. Would you care to elaborate?"

Mildred looked in HB's direction, hoping that somehow her potions teacher would come to her aid.

"Mildred Hubble, will you please answer Miss Spellbinder's question?"

Verna's words snapped Mildred's attention back to the matter in hand. She turned back to face Miss Spellbinder and saw that the inspector now had her arms crossed and was looking at her with a slight smile upon her face.

"Would it be in order to suggest that in fact, you didn't want to banish the entity? Wouldn't it be nearer the truth to say that you wanted the entity to remain within the school?"

"Of course I wanted to banish the entity," Mildred protested hotly. "It was trying to take over everything in the school and I thought that it had taken over Miss Hardbroom. We're all just lucky that she was able to fight back against it and help me."

Hortense looked down at her nails.

"And precisely what made you think that Miss Hardbroom had been, to use your own words, 'taken over' by the entity?"

Miss Cackle and Miss Drill sat forward in their seats; stunned by the new revelation.

"I …I…" Mildred stumbled, realising that she'd said more than she'd intended to.

"Mildred Hubble, you are bound by the Witches' Code to answer truthfully every question that is asked of you during this trial," Hortense reminded her sharply. "I'll ask you again, what made you think that Miss Hardbroom had been taken over by the entity?"

Mildred stared down at the floor, not wanting to go through the experience again.

"Well?" Hortense prompted.

Mildred shuffled uncomfortably on her seat again. "It took her eyes."

"I beg your pardon."

"Her eyes," Mildred stared harder at the ground, trying to banish the image that had formed in her mind. "It turned her eyes black...and it spoke through her."

"I see...and yet neither you nor Miss Hardbroom have seen fit to relay this information to anyone else within the school?" Hortense turned to face Verna. "I can think of only one reason why Miss Hardbroom would wish to keep such a revelation secret. We only have her word for it that the entity was entirely banished."

"But it was," Mildred protested. "Miss Hardbroom didn't want to help it any more than I did. She turned down everything it offered her; she wanted to be rid of it as much as I did."

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "It offered her things? Now what precisely did it offer?"

Mildred shook her head, "I don't know."

"And yet you're adamant that Miss Hardbroom didn't give in to its enticements?"

Mildred closed her eyes and wished that a hole would open up in the ground and swallow her.

Hortense paced across the front of the hall. "Well I find this information very interesting I must say," she sneered. "It would appear that the reports reaching the Guild only scratched the surface of the events that occurred here at the end of last term. I am most interested as to why you were so reticent to report the true facts. Is it perhaps the case that the entity is still here in some way?"

Mildred shook her head.

Hortense looked levelly at her. "Are you sure? Are you really sure?"

Mildred screwed her eyes tighter and prayed that Miss Spellbinder wouldn't make her answer the question...there was after all, no way she could lie.


	18. Chapter 18

"Are you really sure?"

Mildred stared down at her feet and twisted the ends of her plaits nervously between her fingers.

"Come on girl," Hortense sighed heavily. "It's not as though I asked you a particularly difficult question. Do you or do you not think that it's possible that the entity is still residing somewhere within the school?"

"I guess...I guess it's possible."

"Possible, only possible?" Hortense leant forward, placing both of her hands on the table in front of her. "I'd like a straight answer Mildred. A seemingly unstoppable magical entity appears within the school and threatens to take over everything. Do you really believe that anyone here would have the strength to resist it? Isn't it more likely that the entity gained a foothold here and even now resides somewhere on the premises?"

Mildred remained silent.

"Isn't it probable that the entity did gain the assistance of someone within the school?"

Hortense turned to face Verna. "I think it best that Miss Hardbroom be removed from the premises until it can be determined that she is free from any outside influence."

Verna considered the matter for a few seconds. "It does seem to be a sensible suggestion," she finally agreed.

"You can't!" Mildred protested, suddenly finding her voice.

"I beg your pardon!" Hortense's voice was brittle. "And just who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"But it isn't fair," she broke off; fair was somehow such a meaningless word in the circumstances.

"It doesn't matter Mildred," she heard a tired voice reply and raised her head to look towards Miss Hardbroom, surprised that it had taken her so long to say something.

"Miss?" Mildred failed to understand what her teacher was getting at.

"Things were bound to catch up with me sooner or later."

Mildred stared at Miss Hardbroom, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. She shook her head; it was so unlike HB to be defeatist about anything.

"What are you saying?"

"I would have thought that that was clear," the voice told her calmly.

Mildred eyes widened, "You're not Miss Hardbroom, are you?" the words fell from her mouth as realisation dawned. "That's the reason why Morgana reacted the way that she did, that's the reason why you're not doing anything in your own defence. But how? How did this happen?"

Constance faltered momentarily but quickly recovered her poise.

"What are you talking about?" she snapped at Mildred.

Mildred shook her head, hoping that she was wrong with her guesswork.

"I don't understand how, but it's not you." Mildred starred hard at Constance, and gasped as she saw a flash of black skim across the surface of her teacher's eyes. Her mouth dropped open. "No," she breathed as she saw the telltale sign of the entity.

Hortense let out a sigh of exasperation at the interruption.

"Mildred Hubble, I'm beginning to understand the reputation you have garnered for yourself within this establishment. Will you please be quiet?"

"But Miss..." Mildred protested, struggling to find her voice. "Miss you...."

"Mildred Hubble, I will not stand for any more of your wonton insubordination. You have said more than enough."

"Miss...."

Hortense raised a hand. "Enough Mildred. Enough. I think it's time I bought this little floor show to an end. You may step down."

"You don't know what you're dealing with." Mildred finally found her voice and turned to face Hortense.

Hortense simply arched an eyebrow by way of a reply, and a smirk of amusement spread across her face. "You think that **you** can take on the authority of the Witches' Guild?"

Mildred clenched her fists at her side. "That's not what I mean. The entity is back."

"Really! Oh how convenient."

"It's you Miss Spellbinder, isn't it?"

Mildred turned her head as she heard the voice of Miss Drill. The Sports teacher was on her feet and moving to stand beside Mildred. "If you think you can, in some way, use it in your vendetta against Miss Hardbroom, then you're very much mistaken."

"Vendetta!" Hortense repeated, shaking her head. "What over active imaginations you all appear to have. And what precisely is it that you think I'm doing?"

"It is you though, isn't it?" Mildred persisted, her eyes still fixed on her potions teacher. "I don't know how you've done it but you have to stop this. You don't understand what it can do." Her eyes widened in fear as she caught sight of another flash of pure black pass across HB's eyes. "Please Miss Spellbinder. Whatever it is that the entity promised you, it's lying. Please Miss, you have to stop it."

"I don't have a clue what you are talking about," Hortense shook her head in confusion. "Have you both completely lost your minds? I suggest you return to your seats before I hold you in contempt."

"Drop the act," Imogen growled. "You've done nothing but dig for dirt since the moment you got in through the front door. I know you're…" She broke off as she heard a gasp from Mildred.

She followed the direction that the young girl was pointing in and watched with mounting fear as Constance bowed her head, sparks of energy seeming to leap from the tips of her fingers.

"Miss Hardbroom!" Mildred called out in fear, hoping to get some response from her form tutor.

There was no sign of recognition from HB, instead sparks of multi-coloured light continued to flow from her fingers, racing up towards the ceiling in search of residual magic.

"Stop this." Imogen took a step forward, facing up to Hortense. "This stops now."

Hortense looked at Imogen as though she were out of her mind.

"What on Earth are you on about?"

"We know that you're desperate to make an impression with this case, we know how things have been stacking up against you, we know..."

Imogen looked at the complete confusion on Hortense's face and realised that something was wrong.

"I'm not making any sense here, am I?"

"I think you're completely unhinged...."

There was a low cackle from the direction of the judge's chair and all heads turned in that direction. There was a slight red hue in the air as Verna rose slowly to her feet. She raised her head, and where her pale, washed out blue eyes should have been there were now pure black ovals. The cackle grew to a laugh and sparks of red and green leapt around her as she made her way down from her seat and across the hall, all signs of her previous infirmity gone.

"If you want to point the finger, may I suggest that you point it in the right direction," she told Imogen smoothly before turning her head towards Constance and holding out a hand.

"Join me," she commanded coldly.

Mildred looked with horror in HB's direction, hoping against all hope that her teacher would be able to resist. She saw the slow smile that spread across HB's face and then watched her slowly close her eyes.

"No," she yelled, fearing she knew what was going to happen.

HB slowly opened her eyes again and Mildred's worst fears were realised. Jet black ovals filed the space where Constance's eyes should have been.

"It is done," HB's tone was flat and emotionless. "I have control."

"Verna!" Hortense's voice was full of disbelief as she struggled to come to terms with what was going on around her.

Verna turned to face her colleague, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"You find it so hard to believe?" she questioned as threads of silver ran across the surface of her eyes.

"You're a senior member of the Witches' Guild," Hortense stammered, as if that explained everything.

"Senior member!" Verna sneered. "We all know what that means. I'm the doddery old woman that you can't wait to pension off. I'm the Guild joke, the witch who's so far past it she can't even ride her broom without accident."

That's not true…." Hortense began but was interrupted by Verna.

"Isn't it? Isn't it true that you can't wait to see me pensioned off to a nice little retirement castle by the sea? Isn't it true that you picked me to come with you because you believed that you could boss me around and have everything your own way?"

"Well…." Hortense stumbled.

"Of course it's true," Verna snapped. "Did you think that I was so very stupid that I couldn't see it? Do you know what its like to be treated as a joke? To be discounted and treated as though I didn't exist? As though I couldn't possibly have anything useful to bring to a conversation?" Verna's eyes were blazing with fury. "Do you know who I once was? Do you know what I used to be?"

Hortense shook her head, no longer trusting herself to speak.

Verna seemed to glow with energy as she got into her stride.

"I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always old and forgetful. I was the most promising witch of my generation. I attempted spells that no one else did; I brought witchcraft out of the shadows and put it back on the map. I fought for our recognition in the outside world and was instrumental in the reorganising of the Guild. How does that Guild now repay me? How does that Guild now treat its senior members? Is there any respect? Any platitudes or words of thanks for all that I've done? No, there's sniggering and pointing fingers and treating me as though I was nothing more than some big joke." Verna moved swiftly across the room. "Well maybe I'm not ready to give up the fight; maybe I'm not ready to throw it all in. Maybe I want to stay; maybe I want the chance to again be the witch that I once was."

"But…" Hortense fought to find the right words. "To do it this way…"

Verna laughed. "Oh but there is such power here; such energy on offer. It's intoxicating; can't you feel it?"

Hortense shook her head, unable to accept what was happening. She stood silently and watched as Verna turned and motioned for Constance to step forward.

With a slight smile on her face, Constance moved to stand in front of her.

The air all around seemed suddenly thick with magic. Hortense watched it as it danced and shimmered, lifted by the gentle breeze in the air. She was entranced by the sight; carried away by its beauty.

She felt a hand on her arm and automatically tried to shake it off. The hand shook her arm and then tried to pull her away.

"Come on Miss." Mildred Hubble's voice broke into her thoughts. "We have to get out of here."

Hortense shook her head and the image of the magic shattered in her mind. She blinked furiously, trying to regain full control of her senses. She let the young girl pull her from the room, desperately trying to block out the cackle of laughter that accompanied their departure.

"There's nowhere to run," the taunting voice of Verna warned them, her voice cracking with energy. "There's nowhere to run."

* * *

**_As always, thanks to those who have had the patience to stay with this, and thank you for the reviews :)_**


	19. Chapter 19

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed recently; I was thinking that I'd left it too long between chapters...Here's a little more.**_

**_

* * *

_**

"Thank you Mildred," Hortense acknowledged quietly as the door to the Great Hall slammed behind them with a hollow thud that echoed along the corridor.

Mildred shrugged off the thanks. "It's enticing isn't it?"

Hortense held a hand to her head, trying to work out what had happened. "It had that effect on you?"

Mildred shook her head. "Not this time. Last time… It was Miss Hardbroom who broke the spell then."

"It was like this last time?" Hortense was aghast at the revelation.

Mildred nodded. "It attacked HB, I mean Miss Hardbroom," Mildred quickly corrected herself. "But she was able to fight against it. She held it off so that I could cast the vanquishing spell. I don't understand why she couldn't fight it this time."

"Fight it?" Imogen questioned.

Mildred nodded. "It took time to build up strength; I don't understand how it has taken over her so quickly."

Hortense slowed to a halt. "Ahh."

"What is it?" Miss Cackle asked, looking back over her shoulder at the inspector.

"I think that may have something to do with me," Hortense confessed quietly. "I cast a magic prevention spell over the room that Constance was in…and then later over Constance herself…" She looked round at the expressions on the faces of the group. "Well at the time I thought her magic was dangerously out of control and that we couldn't trust her."

"**We **couldn't trust her? You mean, you saw a chance to finally get even with her and thought that she might do something to fight back against you," Imogen told her coldly.

Hortense turned to face Imogen, her eyes blazing with fury. "Nothing you have said during the trial has done anything to suggest that you have anything other than a deep-seated dislike of Constance. Why now are you so quick to leap to her defence?"

"Look." Miss Cackle stood between the two women. "Whatever the reasons behind it, the important thing now is to remove that spell and Constance back to normal."

Hortense shook her head. "I don't think so," she remarked flatly. "With Constance under the power of whatever that thing is, the last thing I intend to do is give it access to more magic."

"I don't think it's going to work that way," Mildred spoke up.

"You don't think so..." Hortense shook her head in disbelief. "You're what? A second year student here and you presume to tell me, a senior investigator with the Witches' Guild, what we should do?"

"Mildred has had dealings with the entity before," Miss Cackle pointed out calmly. "She is the only one apart from Constance who knows anything about it."

"You have to remove the spell," Mildred pleaded.

Hortense looked down at the earnest expression on the young witch's face and slowly shook her head. "You've seen what she's like. I'm not prepared to give her or Verna any more power."

Mildred fought to find the right words. "But she can't fight back without her magic. She can't do anything if you won't let her use her magic."

Hortense arched an eyebrow. "If that's Constance doing nothing then I'm certainly not going to hand her the opportunity to do anything more. If we're lucky, that spell will prevent the entity from being able to use Constance's magic against us."

"Please." "Mildred's pleading almost brought her to the verge of tears. "She won't be able to fight against it if you don't let her use her magic."

"Oh for heaven's sake girl," Hortense grabbed Mildred by the arms and shook her. "That thing in there, whatever it is, is no longer Constance Hardbroom. You've got to stop treating it as though it were."

Amelia placed a hand over the inspector's arm. "Hortense...please."

Hortense held Mildred's gaze for a second and then released her hold on the young girl.

Mildred immediately turned on her heel and moved further down the corridor, trying to keep a hold on her emotions.

"Was that really necessary?" Amelia asked Hortense sternly.

Hortense pushed a hand through her short blond hair and tried to regain her patience.

"Nothing is to be gained by pretending that that **thing** out there is Constance," she snapped.

Amelia bowed her head, not wanting to believe what the other woman was saying.

"Whatever you may believe, you must remember that you are talking to young witches. I won't have you upsetting my girls like that."

Hortense held up a hand. "I'm sorry; it's just that I don't think we're going to gain anything by increasing that things access to magic."

Amelia met Hortense's gaze. "I have a feeling you may be right," she admitted. "But that detail maybe something we have to keep from the girls for now."

* * *

"Mildred?"

Mildred heard Maud's questioning voice and raised her head to see her friend standing at the bend in the corridor. Maud waited for a few moments before making her way forward.

"I wanted to be here when you came out," she explained. "Then I felt this...something in the air." She glanced at the assembled party. "What's going on?"

Mildred sniffed and wiped angrily at her eyes. "It's back," she muttered. "And it's got HB."

Mildred felt Maud's hand on her shoulder and she tried to shake it off but Maud wasn't so easily swayed.

"It'll be alright," she offered.

Mildred's shoulders shook as she tried to contain her emotions. "No, it won't be alright."

She turned and wiped at the hot tears on her face. "The entity will take over HB and there won't be anything to stop it after that. We can't just let this happen."

"You said that the entity already has HB," Maud reminded her friend quietly, but Mildred shook her head.

"No, there has to still be something of HB in there. She had the strength to fight it last time, and if she has her strength, I'm sure she'd be able to do it again."

"I can't see Miss Spellbinder doing anything to help HB," Maud admitted reluctantly.

Mildred folded her arms. "We have to persuade her somehow."

Maud bit her lip; she really wasn't certain that that was possible.

* * *

"Shouldn't we be getting out of here?" Imogen turned and indicated the door to the Great Hall that was starting to crackle and smoke. "If the magic in there is that dangerous then I don't imagine that a wooden door, however thick, is going to be able to hold them for long."

"You've raised a very good point," Hortense conceded. "I suggest that we get everyone out of here."

"Evacuate the school?" Amelia's voice was raised.

"Unless you want to witness the place being overrun by the entity, I don't see that we have much of a choice," Hortense told her flatly.

"Very well," Amelia reluctantly agreed. "But can we please, for the moment, not tell everyone the exact nature of the problem?"

"I hardly think that now is the time to be worrying about possible public relations issues," Hortense grumbled as she set off down the corridor.

"I was thinking more of the effect the news might have on the girls," Amelia retorted as she bustled after Hortense. "Some of the first years are a little highly strung."

"I think it's a no go," the words fell from Imogen's mouth as she rounded the corner and took in the state of the main doors. Angry red strands of energy were running across the surface, crackling and spitting, as though warning them to keep away.

"It must have sealed the whole school," Hortense reasoned and turned to face the small party. "Any suggestions ladies?"

"I think perhaps we should repair to my office and assess the situation," Amelia stated, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice. "Assuming it has decided not to seal that off as well."

* * *

Amelia opened up the door and motioned for the group to enter. She had noticed that the corridors had been eerily silent on the short journey to her office. She had expected the place to be awash with the sound of girls' voices, all of them asking questions, wanting to know what was going on. She didn't want to dwell on what the silence might mean.

"I don't understand how the entity can even be here," Imogen admitted as she crossed the threshold, not caring if Hortense sneered at her. "If Mildred and Constance banished it last time, how can it still be here?"

Amelia pondered the question for a few moments.

"It must have left a trace of itself somewhere," she finally answered, shivering at the thought of the presence hiding within the school, waiting for its moment to move.

"Now that it's back, what do you suppose it wants?" Imogen asked.

Amelia nodded in the direction of Mildred and Maud. "I rather think Mildred is the person we need to be asking. Aside from Constance, she's the only one who has seen it in action."

"I'll talk to her, Imogen offered.

"Why you?" Hortense queried. "Surely in matters of witchcraft, either Miss Cackle or myself would be better placed."

Imogen turned to face Hortense. You've done nothing but terrify the poor girl since you came here. I rather think that in the circumstances she'll respond to me better." Imogen glanced at Amelia. "With your permission?"

Amelia waved her arm by way of consent. "Please Imogen. What we need at this present moment are answers."

Ignoring the outraged expression on Miss Spellbinder's face, Imogen headed over to where Mildred was standing.

She took Mildred's hand and smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

"We really need you to tell us everything that happened in the Great Hall during parents' evening." She looked at Mildred searchingly. "And I do mean everything."

Mildred bit her lower lip and nodded slowly, trying to ignore the fact that Miss Cackle and Miss Spellbinder were standing only a few feet away, obviously listening intently to every word.

"This is what happened last time," she admitted quietly.

"What exactly was that Mildred?" Imogen asked as gently as she could.

Mildred stared down at her shoes. "The entity attacked Miss Hardbroom," Mildred struggled to find the right words. "It tried to destroy her."

"Only it didn't succeed," Hortense pointed out; butting into the conversation and ignoring the black look she received from Amelia. "From what I saw in the Great Hall just now, Constance Hardbroom is very much at the centre of things."

Imogen turned her head and glared at the blond-haired witch for a second before returning her attention to Mildred.

"How did you stop the entity?" she asked softly.

"The reversing spell." Mildred's eyes lit up and she raised her head. "We used the reversing spell from the Forbidden Volumes and the entity was sucked into a kind of non-explosion."

"A non-explosion?" Imogen directed her question to Miss Cackle but received no answer.

Hortense sucked the air over her teeth as she processed the news.

"The entity was drawn here last time by a perception altering spell, that's why the reversing spell was able to work."

Mildred's face dropped. "You mean that it won't this time?"

Hortense shook her head. "Something else has allowed it to grow this time."

"Hmm," Amelia mused sadly. "Explaining Miss Hyssop's actions to the Guild may prove to be tricky."

"If we could stick to the problem at hand," Hortense countered. "However it managed it, the important thing is that the entity has found a way to get a foothold within the school. What we have to do is work out a way to stop it."

"Really!"

Hortense turned and glared at Imogen, not appreciating the tone of sarcasm.

"Logic suggests that to get rid of the entity you'd have to take away the main source of its food. If it's got nothing to feed on then it can't grow and should start to look elsewhere for sustenance." She pulled a face. "Despite appearances, I don't think that Verna is the main course. If we cancelled out its main source of energy and put up something of our own to entice it in, then we might be able to contain it."

There was a pause and then Imogen's eyes widened as she realised what Miss Spellbinder was getting at.

"Constance!" she breathed and looked to Miss Cackle, hoping that the head teacher would contradict her. "You can't be suggesting that…." She let the sentence fall away.

Hortense placed her hands flat on the table. "We have to explore all avenues," she announced firmly. "What is clear is that we need to get rid of this entity."

"But to…. do what you're suggesting…I don't even know how you can think it." Imogen was at something of a loss for words. "Cancelling out its main source of energy," she mimicked. "I think we all know what that's shorthand for."

"It would only be as a last resort," Hortense insisted but Imogen shook her head.

"It would be murder!"

"It would be saving the lives of everyone within the school," Hortense corrected. "I think it's important that we all look at the bigger picture here."

"Bigger picture be damned," Imogen spat back. "There has to be another way."

Hortense folded her arms and glared at Imogen. "I take it you have a better idea of how to stop this entity before it destroys the school and everyone in it?"

"Ladies, ladies," Amelia stepped between the two women, before their conversation got any further out of control. "Fighting amongst ourselves is not going to help. We must work together if we are to defeat this thing."

"I couldn't agree more," Imogen said pointedly, glaring at Hortense.

"I'd just like to remind you, Miss Drill that we can't always have the happy ending that we want. Sometimes hard decisions have to be made for the greater good."

Amelia pulled gently on Imogen's arm and led her away from Hortense's side.

"Try and keep your head Imogen," she warned her colleague. "If we are going to defeat this thing, then we're going to need our wits about us, and more importantly, we're going to have to work together."

Imogen pointed in Hortense's direction. "But you heard what she just said! She as good as said that we have to sacrifice Constance's life if we expect to get out of this." Imogen looked imploringly at Amelia, hoping to see her own feelings mirrored there. "Miss Cackle!"

Amelia's gaze dropped to the floor. "I've known Constance a great many years and I don't want to even think about what Hortense is suggesting, but unless we can find a way to defeat this entity, I don't know what else we can do."

Imogen watched as tears formed in Amelia's eyes.

"We'll find a way," she told her with a confidence she didn't believe in. "We'll find a way somehow and it won't be _her _way."


	20. Chapter 20

Verna sighed heavily as the entity launched another attack on the door.

"Why are you so desperate to get out there?" she questioned. "You have what you want, I'm going to let you exist in this world; let the others be for now."

The entity twisted and turned as its central consciousness listened to the words of the elder witch.

She had been easy to manipulate from the start; all too eager to believe that the only thing it wanted was a host to allow it to exist in the world. She had stood in the darkness of the hall and been so willing to offer herself as that vessel; to gain in return the powers that she had once commanded. She had not once questioned where that power was going to come from, or how that magic was going to be obtained.

The entity turned its attention to the tall witch who had caused it so much trouble last time. How very fitting that she was to be the one to pay. It reached out and communicated with the strands of itself that lurked within the witch; moments later the blackness dropped from her eyes and she was returned to normal.

Constance staggered slightly as the entity released its hold on her mind and she suddenly found herself standing in the middle of the Great Hall, in what felt like full possession of her faculties. The bright lights burnt her eyes and she had to raise a hand to shield them from the glare.

"What is going on?" she demanded to know as her eyes focussed in on the streaming strands of energy that danced across the ceiling of the Great Hall.

The strands danced and weaved in the air, pulling themselves together into human form. As they settled into place, Constance found herself staring at an image of Hortense.

"This person was at the forefront of your thoughts…so we thought we'd amuse ourselves."

"Amuse yourselves?" Constance spat. "You consider yourself to have emotion now? Isn't that stretching things a little for something that is little more than a bundle of brightly coloured light?"

The energy crackled angrily and streams of multi-coloured energy ran across the face of Hortense.

"Tread carefully," the rasping voice warned her. "We are not here to make deals this time, we already have our vessel; we have our place in this world."

"What?"

"Constance!"

Constance recognised Verna's voice speaking from somewhere behind her and everything fell into place.

"Tell me you didn't make a deal with it?" she growled, scanning the elderly witches face, looking for tell tale signs of the entity's presence. "Tell me you didn't listen to its lies?"

Verna looked uncomprehendingly at Constance.

"It hasn't lied," she replied simply. "It has given me back the strength that it promised."

"And has it really made clear exactly what it expects in return?" Constance pushed the issue, cautiously glancing towards the strands of energy that now spread out to surround them both, half expecting it to take action. "Has it told you what it intends to do to the inhabitants of this school?"

Verna's expression was one of confusion. "All it wants to do is exist within this world. I'm old Constance, but this way I can live on."

"Live," Constance retorted angrily. "What it'll give you won't be life."

She winced as the energy spat and struck out at her.

"The entity has no interest in the lives of the people within these walls," Constance continued, ignoring the pain. "It's not going to do anything but suck every last drop of magic out of them."

Verna shook her head resolutely. "You're wrong. The entity warned me that you didn't understand it."

"On the contrary," Constance replied ruefully, "I understand it altogether too well. Push it out of your mind," she implored the older witch. "If you can, then banish it now."

The entity listened to the exchange between the two witches and knew that it had to act. It couldn't allow the younger of the two to destroy the groundwork that it had laid down. It had wanted the witch to suffer as her magic was drawn from her; it had wanted a little revenge for the way she had treated it last time. But, it reflected, revenge was only something it could enjoy if it managed to maintain a grip on the situation.

It communicated again with the part of its intelligence that resided within the witch.

Constance winced as she felt the entity shifting within her mind. A spike of pain shot through her and she clutched both hands to her head as though that might contain the pain.

"Are you alright?"

She heard the concerned tones of Verna and wanted to shake the woman firmly by the shoulders and tell her that she was dabbling with forces that she couldn't possibly understand.

She opened her mouth to try and warn her that she should get out of the Great Hall as quickly as possible, but found that she could say nothing. Her vision tunnelled, becoming black around the edges as the entity sought to regain control. She tried to fight against it but, as before, its grip on her mind was too strong.

"What was she saying?" Verna asked the entity, trying not to let doubt enter her mind as she watched dark black pools replace Constance's eyes.

"Ignore her," the entity purred in her ear. "She doesn't understand the good that we can do; she imagines nothing but the worst."

"But the things that she said…"

The entity still in its Hortense shape waved a hand.

"Ignore her; she is bitter because we turned to you in our hour of need rather than her." The shape floated closer to Verna. "We offered her our help last time and she turned it down. As we told you, she was responsible for all the damage and the confusion. All we want is a place in this world. You are the person who can grant us this desire."

Verna stared at Constance and then back at the glowing form of the entity; the first flicker of doubt beginning to cross her mind.

* * *

"So what do **you **suggest that we do?" Hortense glared at Imogen.

"Well throwing magic at it doesn't seem to have done any good. Perhaps there is something to be said for the non-magical approach after all."

Hortense bristled at the young teacher's words. What frustrated her more than anything was the fact that Imogen was right. For the past hour she had been attempting, with the help of Miss Cackle, to break back into the Great Hall. The air around the doors was now heavy with undispersed magic and Hortense feared that they were only providing the entity with more by way of food.

"We should pull back," she announced. "We need to think of a better way of handling this."

"Should I get the Forbidden Volumes," Mildred suggested for the fourth time.

"No," Hortense snapped. "There is magic in those books that could kill us all."

Amelia motioned for Hortense to be quiet.

"Mildred may have a point," she announced. "Maybe what we need is more firepower."

Hortense looked at her levelly. "Do you want to be the one to cast one of the spells from those books? Because, if I'm honest with you, the very idea of those particular volumes within the building makes me nervous."

Amelia's head dropped. Although she didn't want to admit to it, she wasn't keen to attempt any of the spells that were contained within the books. She resolved to herself that, if somehow they got out of their present predicament, then she was going to insist that Constance removed the volumes to another location entirely - preferably one where she was never likely to come into contact with them again.

"As far as I can see, we seem to be wasting our time here," Imogen broke the silence.

"Well I for one am not prepared to simply wait and let death find me," Hortense argued.

Imogen shook her head. "I'm not talking about giving in. I'm talking about trying another approach."

Hortense stiffened. "I'm not changing my mind," she warned. "There is no way that I'm going to lift that spell from Constance. It stays in place because I have no intention of letting that thing in there get any stronger."

"The truth of the matter is that you just can't bring yourself to trust anyone else," Imogen fumed. "The one person who may be able to help us is currently on the other side of that door without recourse to her magic..."

"And that is exactly how things are going to remain," Hortense broke across Imogen's argument. "I don't know when exactly it was that you decided to appoint yourself president of Constance's fan club, but now is certainly not the time to be gifting the entity with all the power at Constance's disposal. As long as that thing in there can only use Verna to cast spells then we're safe....relatively speaking."

Imogen shook her head, failing to understand Hortense's logic.

"What Miss Spellbinder means," Amelia interrupted. "Is that she believes that the entity can't break the suppression spell…" she looked at the confusion that was still plain on Imogen's face. "It can't use Constance to cast spells upon the rest of us."

"But it will take her magic from her," Imogen protested.

"True," Hortense agreed. "But that will take time."

* * *

Mildred paced back and forth across the corridor, her hands constantly twisting and turning the ends of her plaits as she listened to the raised voices of her teachers.

"There has to be something we can do," she told Maud as she passed her again. "It's just a matter of working out what." She continued with her pacing. "If HB was here, what would she tell us to do?"

"To keep well out of the way and leave everything to her," Maud answered glumly.

Mildred smiled thinly. "But after that, what would she do?"

Maud shrugged her shoulders. "You'd have to ask her."

Mildred stopped her pacing and listened to the raised tones of Hortense and shook her head.

"That's it then. I have to get in there and try and talk to Miss Hardbroom,"

Maud shook her head. "Don't be stupid Millie, the entity wouldn't let you."

Mildred looked resolutely at her friend. "I have to try. I can't let Miss Spellbinder make things worse. HB is in there somewhere and we have to give her a chance to fight back."

Maud grabbed hold of her friend's arm. "You can't be certain that HB is still reachable. That thing in there could kill you."

"Well I can't just stand by and do nothing."

Maud took in the resolute expression on her friend's face and knew that there was no way she'd be able to talk her out of her plan.

"And how do you propose to get in the hall, when the combined powers of Miss Spellbinder and Miss Cackle can't even make a dent in the door?"

Mildred smiled. "The same way I did when Enid and I made our entrance during Miss Cackle's birthday."

"Millie, you can't."

"I have to." Mildred pulled Maud to one side. "Look, I saw a broom in Miss Cackle's office. I think it's the one that was taken off that first year who sleep flies. I'm going to use that and I'm going to try and get through to HB. Cover for me?"

Maud looked at the serious expression on her friend's face for a few moments and then nodded.

"Just promise me that you'll be careful?"

Mildred smiled. "Of course."

Maud watched her friend as she slipped silently through the shadows. A voice in her head told her that she should alert Miss Cackle or Miss Drill to the plan, but, as she reminded herself, she'd promised Mildred that she'd help her.

* * *

The entity swirled as though caught in a draught and whipped and whirled around Constance; lifting its control, before settling into a new shape.

"Do you approve?" it sneered as it completed its new form.

"I hardly think that you need my approval," she replied coldly, trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion of light.

The entity laughed softly. "That's true," it admitted. "I really don't need anything from you."

Constance glared at the form that the entity had taken. "They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," she remarked.

The entity with its Constance face smiled widely. "The shape of things to come perhaps?"

Constance shook her head. "This isn't over yet," she warned it. "No-one in this school is just going to stand still and let you take this place without a fight."

The entity laughed; a rich deep laugh that filled the air. "You imagine that they are strong enough to stand against me?"

Deep down inside Constance knew that the entity had a valid point. There was no way that anyone could stand against it; it had matured since their last encounter. It had hidden in the background and studied them, learning all that it could.

"You are mine now," it told her as it swirled and whirled around; its form dissipating and then smoothly reforming. "I can control your every action, your every movement."

It watched as Constance stiffened. "You know that I speak the truth," it continued. "You are no longer in control." It swept around her and whispered in her ear. "Control; it's a word that means a lot to you, doesn't it? Always in control of a situation, always in control of yourself and your emotions. I wonder what the rest of the school think of you now?"

Constance tried to ignore its words but it had touched upon a very raw nerve. Control; it had always been about control. From the early days at the WTC to the present day, it was all about control and the image that was projected to the outside world. She had lost that control the moment that the entity had revealed itself in the dungeon, and she wondered if she'd ever get the chance to regain it.

"I shall have your magic," it told her matter-of-factly, intruding onto her thoughts. "I shall take every last bit of it until there is nothing left. But I think I shall let you experience the rest of the school suffering first. I shall let you watch, knowing that you are responsible for every loss."

"Isn't that a little melodramatic?" she queried, "or are you really beginning to deceive yourself into believing that you're human? You're a parasitic entity, nothing more, nothing less."

The entity let out a hiss of anger and lashed out at the source of its frustrations.

Constance bit down hard on her lip and tried to block out the pain.

"You no more have access to my magic than I do," she taunted it further. "We both know that there's something blocking it, and we both know that that something isn't you."

The entity hissed in frustration. "But I shall have it," it warned her. "And there will be nothing you can do to stop me."

Constance did her best to ignore the entity, and scanned the hall, looking for Verna. Her eyes finally settled upon the motionless form of the frail looking witch. She was standing perfectly still; her eyes open – unseeing - as though she were caught by surprise in a photograph.

Constance heard the entity laugh quietly.

"Oh I can do whatever I want," it told her with a smile in its voice. "It amuses me to silence her in mid flow."

Constance knew that the trick had been played out for her benefit – just another demonstration of the power that the entity had – and she resolved not to be daunted by it.

"So you've mastered the art of the parlour trick," she sneered. "What next…the flags of all nations from the end of your sleeve?"

"Careful," the entity warned her. "…Unless you want the death of another on your hands." It glanced meaningfully in the direction of Verna.

Constance narrowed her eyes; she had no doubt that the entity would act on its threat. Her only hope was that someone would lift the spell suppression spell that she was obviously under. Hortense had to be the caster of the spell, and a quiet voice at the back of her head told her that release from it was unlikely. Her only hope was to try and get through to Verna; in her heightened state, there was a chance that she'd have enough strength to break the spell. Constance just hoped that she could make the elderly witch understand the danger she was in before the entity decided that it no longer needed to keep her alive.

* * *

Mildred muttered the words of the unlocking spell and smiled tightly as the door to the storeroom swung open with a low creaking sound. She pushed the door open wider and stepped silently into the musty dark room. The place was exactly the same as the last time she'd been in there, only this time she was on her own without anyone for back up.

She placed the broom carefully against one of the overflowing bookshelves and strained to hear what was going on inside the Great Hall. If she could work out what was happening, then she might be able to figure out a plan.

She swallowed nervously; it wasn't that she'd exactly lied to Maud when she said that she had a plan. What she hadn't really made clear was that getting inside the store cupboard was about as detailed as her plan became.

She glanced towards the opening above her and decided that she'd made a mistake. Flying through the narrow space had been hard enough the last time she'd attempted it; trying it now… by herself…on an untried broom was definitely not a good idea.

Swallowing her fears, she perched on the broom and tapped it smartly.

"Hover," she instructed it, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice. She doubted that the broom could pick up on her mood, but she didn't want to take the risk and end up making it nervous.

As she began the ascent towards the opening, she closed her eyes and wished that she'd been able to come up with a different plan; preferably one that didn't involve broomsticks and narrow spaces.

As the broom drew level with the gap in the window, Mildred was able to look down at the scene in the hall.

Miss Hardbroom was surrounded by a multi-coloured whirl of light. Mildred's breath was almost taken away by the beauty of the lights that seemed to alter their hue as they wound their way around her form tutor.

Miss Hyssop was standing motionless at the opposite end of the hall; looking for all the world as though she were a mannequin. As Mildred watched, Miss Hyssop returned to life, her arm sweeping down; as though completing a move she had started sometime earlier.

Mildred took a deep breath and motioned the broom to move forwards. She wobbled slightly as the broom hesitantly responded to her urgings.

"It's ok," she whispered to it. "You can do it."

"Ahhh…" Verna raised her head and smiled as Mildred glided nervously into the hall. "I was wondering when the cavalry would arrive." The smile grew into a laugh. "Are you really the best that the school has to offer?"

"Not exactly," Mildred muttered beneath her breath as she came to a shaky halt. "I've come to ask you to leave Miss Hyssop alone."

Verna's face twisted with confusion. "But my dear child, I am Miss Hyssop."

Mildred shook her head. "No you're not. The moment that you made an agreement with that thing, you ceased to be Miss Hyssop."

Verna frowned. "You are mistaken child."

"Am I?" Mildred's voice grew in confidence and she raised her head to meet the older woman's gaze. "Can you honestly tell me that nothing has changed?"

Verna faltered. "Well I'm stronger," she admitted. "But that's a benefit of agreeing to help the entity find a place in the world."

Mildred shook her head. "If you've agreed to help it, then there'll soon be nothing of you left."

Verna shook her head. "You're wrong."

"What does Miss Hardbroom say?" Mildred turned her head, seeking out the potions teacher.

She drew in sharp breath as she spotted the swirling mass of energy strands at the far end of the hall. They seemed to have closed in around her teacher's form.

"She refuses to understand what its trying to do," Verna exclaimed. "She refuses to accept that it only wants a chance to exist in the world."

"And you believe it?" Mildred's tone showed her disbelief. "The way you were earlier; that wasn't the Miss Hyssop that we met on the first day here."

"You mean that I didn't crash into the bins or fail to make a spell work properly," she retorted

"None of us are perfect," Mildred acknowledged. "But you had character, and you made us laugh." She looked beseechingly at Verna. "Just how much of you do you think will be left when the entity has finished with you?"

Verna shook her head and held out a hand. The red and blue twisting spirals of energy that had been surrounding Miss Hardbroom abandoned their task and raced across the room towards her. Mildred took a step back as she heard the roaring of their approach.

Verna laughed and made a motion with her hand. The crackling energy halted above her and began weaving itself in intricate patterns in the air, twisting and turning, casting iridescent light upon the otherwise dark walls of the Great Hall.

"You think this is threatening?" she questioned with a laugh in her voice. "This is beauty; you misunderstand its intentions."

Mildred shook her head. "You're the one who's being deceived," Mildred looked again in the direction of HB. The tall black-clothed figure was motionless; eyes closed.

"Oh it's alright," Verna assured Mildred. "The entity just didn't want her interfering."

"Then let me talk to her," Mildred announced. "Let her tell us that the entity isn't making her act against her will." Mildred looked beseechingly at Verna. "The entity forced its way into this world last time; it tried to kill Miss Hardbroom, I think it's going to try and do the same to you."


	21. Chapter 21

**_Huge thanks to the patience of those who've managed to stay with this story. Nearly there now._**

* * *

"Miss Hyssop." Mildred spoke up nervously and watched as sparks of energy danced around the elderly inspector. "You can't let it do this. Please Miss, you have to stop it."

Verna arched an eyebrow "Do I?" she asked, amusement plain in her tone. "Do I really?"

Mildred nodded. "It won't keep its promise to you.... I think deep down you know that too."

"Don't presume to know what I think," Verna told her testily.

"I'm sorry," Mildred apologised immediately. "It's just I don't think that you really want to be responsible for the deaths of everyone within the school…You do know that that's what's going to happen, don't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The entity." Mildred was determined to get through to the Guild inspector before it took over her mind completely. "All it wants to do is feed on magic; it will take everything from you and from Miss Hardbroom, and then it will feast on us."

Verna shook her head. "You are the one who misunderstands its intentions," she explained as though she were speaking to a small child. "Whilst it's true that the entity needs magic to survive, it doesn't have to kill to do that."

"So what's it doing to Miss Hardbroom?" Mildred pushed the question.

Verna shook her head sadly. "Constance doesn't understand it," she exclaimed. "The entity has explained it all to me. She is trying to fight it and so it has to keep her subdued to keep the rest of us safe."

"It said that?" Mildred questioned.

Verna nodded.

"Then it's lying to you," Mildred retorted. "Miss Spellbinder cast some sort of spell prevention upon Miss Hardbroom. There was nothing she could do to fight against it, even if she wanted to."

Verna shook her head. "That's just not possible. The entity wouldn't lie to me."

"It's the truth," Mildred pleaded with her. "It's killing her to take her magic. When it's done with her it will do the same to us and then eventually to you."

Verna looked at the earnest expression on the young witch's face and something about the girl reminded her of when she was that age; reminded her of a time when she thought that she could change the world, could make anything happen if she tried hard enough. She'd learnt the hard way that the world wasn't that simple

She followed the gaze of the young witch and was slightly surprised to find that she was checking out the status of her potions teacher. From what she'd learnt about the relationship between staff and pupils at the school; this was one scenario she hadn't envisaged.

"What do you care for the health of Constance Hardbroom?" she found herself asking.

Mildred looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"She saved the life of everyone in the school from the entity. She may be a little on the scary side but I wouldn't wish anything bad to happen to her."

Verna tilted her head to one side. "The entity would never harm anyone."

Mildred shook her head. "You're wrong," she said firmly. "When it was here before, it offered Miss Hardbroom power and she turned it down… and then it tried to kill her."

Verna shook her head. "She tried to attack it and it was forced to defend itself."

Mildred closed her eyes as her heart sank.

"Don't listen to it," she implored. "Please Miss Hyssop, don't listen to it."

Verna turned her attention to Constance who was standing motionless, like a statue, and for the first time there was a spark of doubt in her mind. The entity had told her that Constance was trouble and that it was keeping her subdued to ensure the safety of everyone else. It had told her that Constance didn't understand its true nature and would only try to destroy the work that it was doing.

If that was the case, Verna wondered why the witch had been there at her shoulder earlier on. The entity had told her that she wasn't alone; had told her that there was someone else who understood. She was certain that the entity had been referring to Constance. She wondered just what had happened to change that.

She shuddered as she felt the entity's presence in her head; it ghosted in as though sensing that she was beginning to have doubts.

'Don't listen to the young witch,' the velvety soft voice in her mind told her. 'Don't listen to the girl; she is another unbeliever.'

High up in the rafters energy spun and wound itself together. It had to stop the young witch from putting ideas in the old woman's head.

Mildred heard the crackle of energy in the air before she saw it. Her eyes darted around the hall, looking for the telltale strands of coloured light.

"Miss Hyssop," she called out fearfully. "Please Miss Hyssop, you've got to believe that I'm telling the truth. If you don't believe me, then listen to Miss Hardbroom."

Strands of bright light burst from out of the shadows, twisting and turning as they sped in her direction.

"Miss Hyssop," she called out nervously. "Please Miss Hyssop."

Verna spotted the approaching strands of the entity and moved to stand in front of Mildred.

"No," she told it firmly. "No-one is to be hurt. You promised."

The energy spat and hissed and voiced its obvious displeasure, but still it held back and the strands broke apart and disappeared into the air.

Verna cast another glance at Constance and came to a decision. She wanted to decide for herself the sort of threat that the potions teacher posed. She closed her eyes and called to mind the magic suppression spell that she'd been taught so many years before. She was surprised at the swiftness of her memory. Usually it took her a good few moments to remember even the simplest of incantations. The words of the spell tumbled from her lips without her having to even think about it - there were definite advantages to letting the entity into her life.

In the shadows, the entity bristled as it realised what Verna was doing. When it had approached her, it had been convinced that it could bend her to its will. It hadn't envisaged any interference from outside. It crackled angrily. Whatever happened, the unbelievers had to be stopped.

Verna turned her attention to Constance, watching as the tall witch staggered and struggled to regain her senses, willing her to hurry up.

"I need to know," Verna called out across the room. "I need to know what it did last time."

She cast her eyes towards the ceiling, watching as the strands of energy swarmed and swirled angrily above her. Although they weren't talking to her, it was obvious that they were gathering their strength together.

"I need to know," she called again, her voice growing in strength, feeling the way that the magic was shifting inside of her.

Constance blinked, once again trying to cope with the sudden intrusion of light and sound. As her eyes found focus, she could make out two figures standing at the other end of the hall. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she realised that one of those figures was none other than Mildred Hubble.

She shook the surprise out of her head as she heard the urgent tones of Verna demanding an answer. She automatically flexed her fingers and was surprised to feel the familiar rush of magic.... It was there...where it belonged...at the very tips of her fingers.

She glanced again in Verna's direction and read the confusion on the woman's face. She had to have lifted the suppression spell; she was at a loss to explain otherwise how her magic had returned.

"There isn't time for this," Verna yelled above the slowing increasing sound of magic swirling around them. "It knows what I've done and it's not happy. I just need to know from you...what did it do last time?"

Constance opened her mouth to reply but was hit by a wave of magic. It raced through her; tearing at her nerve endings and pushing through her memories with the force of a hurricane. She clutched at her head with her hands and struggled to find her voice.

"Having power doesn't mean you can abuse it in this way," she yelled at Verna, knowing instinctively that the older witch was the source of the pain.

"I'm sorry," came the reply, and almost immediately the magic dropped away.

Constance raised her head and glared at Verna.

"I would have told you," she hissed. "There was no need for that."

"We are running out of time," Verna answered by way of an apology. "There isn't the time for niceties."

Constance glared at her, but said nothing.

"Miss Hyssop," Verna felt a tug on her sleeve and turned her head to see Mildred nervously pointing towards the strands of magic that were spiralling around the walls of the Great Hall. "You have to stop it Miss."

Verna took a step back as the entity made another circuit around the room, gathering in size as it did so. She was finally beginning to realise that Mildred might be right. She'd seen the way that it had tried to attack the young witch and she now began to seriously doubt the promises it had made.

She closed her eyes and called upon it, trying not to flinch as it ghosted into her mind and turned her eyes into pools of blackness.

'What do you want?' it demanded to know; its earlier patient, sweet, tones forgotten. 'Why are you acting against our wishes?'

"You told me that no-one else would be hurt," she reminded it. "You told me that all you wanted was a chance to exist in this world." She glanced in Constance's direction. "I'm beginning to see that things aren't quite the way that you paint them. You said that you wouldn't hurt anyone."

She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as the voice in her head let out a long chuckle.

'Is that what I said?' it queried. 'Is that what I promised?'

"Yes," Verna told it firmly. "You said that no harm would come to any of the girls; you said that you just wanted the chance to live and to breathe again."

'Maybe I did say that,' it admitted. 'Maybe that was once enough for me…but not now. Now I have the chance to be everywhere, to taste everything, to be everything.'

"Stop it," Verna cried out as she felt the energy surge through her; her joints aching with the feel of a power that she had long ago relinquished.

"Stop!" it laughed, finally giving voice to its thoughts as it swirled back into human shape. "I've no intention of stopping. Not now, not ever."

Verna jerked her head back as the entity pulled away from her and rose, twisting and turning into the air, still maintaining its human shape.

In that moment she saw everything clearly, saw the frightened face of the young witch in front of her and the resolute expression on the face of the potions teacher. She knew in that moment that she had made a dreadful mistake in dealing with the entity.

"I m taking back my offer," she yelled into the air. "I'm taking back everything."

The entity laughed as it swept back down to earth. "You think that you have a choice in the matter... how quaint."

It whirled towards the two witches. "I may have needed you to gather strength, but it looks as though another soul has just made herself available." The entity fixed its attention upon Mildred. "One that is going to be infinitely easier to control."

"I think not," came a calm voice from behind.

The entity yelled in pain as it was hit by a blast of concentrated magic. The magic engulfed it, causing the entity to twist and unravel as it struggled to fight back against it.

"If you are hoping that Mildred Hubble will prove to be a satisfactory vessel, I'm afraid that you are going to be very disappointed," Constance continued as she launched another attack upon the reeling shape. "She is the most disorganised individual I have ever come across. If you are looking for stability in your life you are most definitely knocking on the wrong door."

The entity called more of itself down from the ceiling and struggled to regain its shape.

"The door," Constance yelled to Mildred and Verna. "I suggest that you make use of it."

Verna glanced at the way that the entity was quickly reforming and knew that there was little time. It appeared to be pulling itself together for a full on assault.

"We will have a vessel," the entity crackled as it pulled itself back into human form.

It drew its strength together and launched a bolt of magic in Mildred's direction. It allowed an expression of pleasure to form on its face as it saw the fear that lit up the young witches face. There was no time for the witch to react or get out of the path of the oncoming magic.

The entity stumbled as it felt something else pull at it. It roared in anger as the bolt of magic fizzed past the young witch and cannoned into the wall.

It turned, swirling angrily as it sought out the source of the interference.

"You," it snarled at Constance, finally identifying where the disturbance had originated.

"Me," Constance replied simply and closed her eyes, reaching out to find the stands of the entity that were still residing within her. She concentrated all her efforts on them; feeling the magic in the air and using it to pull apart the shape that the entity had formed for itself.

"No," the entity shrieked as it felt its grip falter, losing its human form and disseminating back into formless strands.

Constance opened her eyes and glanced at Mildred. "I'll not tell you again," she warned. "Door!"

She was going to add something else to the word, but the entity chose that moment to launch its counter attack. She knew that it would be coming, but she had underestimated the power that it could generate.

It slammed into her, knocking her from her feet and pushing her back against the far wall of the Great Hall. She felt the air being forced from her lungs as the entity relentlessly pushed home its advantage. She struggled for breath, but the air in front of her was filled with the magic of the entity. Her vision tunnelled and she felt the corners of her world begin to slip away.

"We have to get out of here," Verna grabbed hold of the young witch's hands. "We have to get out of here now."

She was surprised when the young girl shook her head.

"We can't just go," she implored. "We have to stop it somehow."

Verna shook her head. "I can't stop it," she yelled above the roar of the magic that was now swirling and whirling around their heads.

"You have to," Mildred implored the elderly witch. "You're the only one who can."

Verna shook her head. "It's too powerful for me to take on by myself." She looked around and her eyes fell upon the now prostrate form of Constance. She grabbed hold of Mildred's arm. "I have an idea." she shouted. "Will you help me?"

Mildred fought against the powerful gusts of raw magic that were swirling through the air and managed to make eye contact with Verna. She took in the desperation on the woman's face and decided that she could trust her.

"What do you want me to do?" she yelled.

"Get ready to get out of here when I give the word."

"What are you going to do?" Mildred wanted to know.

Verna shook her head. "It's not for you to worry about."

"I can't just leave you here."

"You have to," Verna implored. "If you stay it will use you against me." She placed her hands on Mildred's shoulders. "Please, just trust me."

Mildred opened her mouth to argue but promptly closed it again as the pressure around her seemed to change. She closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to shift the uncomfortable feeling in her head. Her ears popped loudly and she opened her eyes again to find herself staring at the incredulous expressions on the faces of those around her.

"Mildred Hubble," Miss Cackle finally found the words. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Mildred looked around, trying to understand what had just happened. She was no longer in the middle of the Great Hall with Miss Hyssop; she was standing in the corridor in front of Miss Cackle, Miss Drill and Miss Spellbinder...wandering if her face was mirroring the look of complete bemusement that was currently plastered on theirs.

* * *

Verna fought her way across the hall, trying to avoid the hungry strands of multicoloured magic that now snapped and snarled at her.

She crouched down next to the slumped and motionless figure of Constance and grabbed her wrist, checking for a pulse.

Closing her eyes and fighting to maintain a level of concentration, she recalled a spell that she had been taught a lifetime before. She wasn't sure that it would do any good, but she knew that she had to try, she knew that she had to try and do something to put things right.

She muttered the words beneath her breath and waited to see if there was any change in the other witch's status.

"Miss Hardbroom?" There was no reaction. "Constance," she shouted louder; fighting against the deafening noise that the magic was now making in the air. She needed the other witch to be awake and alert if her plan was going to work.

Constance blinked and then screwed her eyes shut against the intensity of the light that assailed her senses. She struggled to understand the information that was trying to flood into her brain; after the heavy fog-like existence she had endured, the world now seemed to bombard her senses with more information than she could possibly handle. Light and sound assaulted her and she wanted nothing more than to retreat back to the safety and quiet of the darkness.

There was persistence in the voice at her elbow and something inside of her told her that she had to listen. She forced her eyes open and reached out to hear the words that were being spoken.

The entity swirled and whirled above the heads of the two witches, not understanding how its hold over the tall witch had been lost. Angered, it pushed out again, seeking its way back into her mind. Where there had been a clear way through, there was now a hastily erected barrier. Thwarted, it searched around, seeking out another way to re-establish control.

"Come on," Verna urged Constance. "We don't have much time."

Constance arched an eyebrow. "Things seem to have moved on," she noted.

"Let's just concentrate on getting out of here," Verna replied testily. "I'm sure the recriminations can wait till later." She held out a hand. "Are you going to help me?"

Meeting her gaze for a few moments, Constance finally reached forward and accepted the proffered hand.

She never had the chance to hear what Verna was about to say as the entity chose that precise moment to launch an attack against her.

Constance clasped both hands to her head as she felt the entity push home its attack. It had sensed her returning strength and was doing all it could to put her out of action.

"There isn't much time," she told Verna simply. "It's too strong."

Verna shook her head. "You have to hold it off Constance; you have to do this."

"We need to do more than hold it off," Constance told Verna sharply, despite the pain.

"Leave that to me."

"You're not strong enough," she warned. "Let me do this."

Verna gave Constance a watery smile. "This is my fight. I'm sorry that this is going to hurt, but I need the entity to believe that you are the main threat."

"What?" Constance shouted, not certain that she had correctly heard what Verna was saying above the buzz of energy that was thrumming in her head.

She watched, uncomprehendingly as Verna stepped away from her side and raised her arms to the heavens.

"She is trying to attack you," she heard Verna shout out to the strands of energy that were swirling round above their heads. "She's plotting against you and she thinks that she has the strength to beat you."

"What are you doing?" Constance struggled to her feet and took an unsteady pace across the room trying to stop Verna from continuing. She had not managed more than a handful of paces when the entity appeared between her and Verna, the tendrils of magic spitting and writhing as they were forced into a human shape.

The entity selected a form for itself in a split second and, with a speed that was impossible to follow, it changed its appearance. Constance found herself glaring at a glowing and crackling version of Mildred Hubble.

"You seek to stop me?" it queried. "I thought we had you safely locked away in your own dark depressed little mind." It swirled around her, losing and re-forming its human shape fluidly. "How did you manage to break free of the spell?" It hissed. "Still, you are of little consequence now."

"I wouldn't bank on it," Verna shouted, trying to draw its attention. "She's been hiding her strength from you. All this time, she has been hiding her real power from you."

The entity spun to face the elder witch, tendrils of red magic crackling with raw energy.

"What do you mean? I know this witch's brain. I know the power she has."

Verna shook her head smugly. "There is more to this witch than meets the eye. Did you learn so little from your last encounter with her? Are you really still that naïve when it comes to the power of Witches?"

The entity held Verna's gaze for a moment, looking at the washed out blue eyes that stared firmly back at it. It seemed uncertain for a moment and then raised its arms to the multicoloured streams of magic that were racing across the ceiling of the Great Hall.

"Come," it yelled.

Constance drew all her strength together and tried to prepare for the onslaught that she sensed was coming. What hit her was excruciating; it was as though every nerve-ending, every fibre of her being was on fire. The energy attacked her from all sides and she knew that there was no way she could stand against it.

Verna stood and calmly watched as the hundreds of strands of crackling energy swarmed around Constance. She watched as they jostled for position; each one looking for an opening where it could launch an attack. She closed her eyes; this was the moment she had been waiting for. She took a deep breath and concentrated on forming the correct spell; there was only a limited window of opportunity and she didn't want to think of what would happen to Constance if she was to fail.

Constance felt her resistance crumble as the entity pushed home another attack. She felt the magic as it raced through her; felt its hunger and knew that there was little time left.

Verna spread her arms wide and released the magic that she had been building up inside. The words of her spell grew louder and louder until they began to fill the air; magic causing the words to repeat themselves and grow louder into a crescendo of noise that caused the very foundations of the castle to shudder.

The entity screamed in anger as it suddenly felt itself under attack. It ignored the powder-fine dust that was now beginning to fall from the ceiling as it felt its own strength being used against it.

"No," it shrieked as strands of itself automatically attacked the source of the disturbance. As more strands followed, trying to stop the pain that was eating away at it, the entity felt itself being pulled towards the centre of the room and the old woman.

"We are attacking ourselves," it cried out. "We must stop."

The entity screamed in pain as it felt itself being torn apart; energy rushing at great speed towards the frail looking witch who stood, with arms held aloft, in the centre of the hall. She was summoning it, but was using its own power to do so. She was forcing it into a container that couldn't hope to hold it.

Constance forced her eyes to remain open as she watched the multi-coloured strands of energy race across the room, hundreds upon hundreds of them, twisting and turning around each other, jostling for position.

She felt the pain lessen as the attack let up and the focus of the strands was shifted.

The words of the spell were still echoing around the walls of the hall, the strands of the entity providing the energy to keep it going. Constance heard the words and realised just what Verna was trying to accomplish.

"You don't have to do this," she hissed through gritted teeth. "There are other ways of stopping it."

"I'm sorry," Verna called out weakly, as she felt her strength ebbing. "I needed a distraction and I couldn't think of anything the entity would enjoy more than a good meal."

"Hold on," Constance managed to form the words and tried to move but found that her legs refused to obey her.

"This is the way it should be," Verna told her calmly as the remaining strands of magic were drawn towards her.

"No…" Constance tried to protest but darkness filled her vision and she was forced to give in to her body's exhaustion.

Verna turned her attention back to the remaining energy. She could already feel the effect of trying to contain the magic that was flowing through her; she could feel it as it searched fruitlessly for some way of escape. She had it trapped, but she knew that she couldn't hope to hold it.

* * *

The corridor outside of the Great Hall was slowly filling up with pupils. In the last few minutes the girls had started to gather in the corridors. None of them could explain what had been happening to them during the last couple of hours, but all had been left with the definite feeling that something was very wrong.

Fenny and Gris had been at the head of the first party to make it to the corridor leading to the Great Hall, and Miss Cackle had immediately put the two 3rd years in charge of keeping order.

The level of chatter in the corridor had been growing but it began to fade away as the girls watched mesmerised as the strands of energy that had been arcing across the door seemed to pulse and lose a degree of their brilliance.

Miss Cackle shuddered and pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. "What on Earth is going on in there?"

Imogen watched as the heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall heaved and shuddered as though some immense force were pushing against them.

"Do you think we ought to retire to a safe distance?" Hortense suggested; a quaver obvious in her voice.

"This is my school and I'm not leaving it," Amelia replied firmly.

"Not even when it's falling around your ears?"

"Especially not then!"

Without warning, the doors to the Great Hall flew open and the girls let out an involuntary squeal of alarm as a powerful gust of wind whipped through the corridors, as though trying to escape the confines of the castle.

The pupils were pressed back against the walls by the force of the blast, their hair sweeping out behind them as it rushed past them on its way through the school.

Despite Miss Cackle's urgings to remain where they were, as soon as the gust of wind petered out there was an immediate stampede for the doorway; everyone wanting to see what the outcome had been.

The body of girls all stopped as one as they reached the doorway and a hushed silence fell upon the group.

Miss Cackle made her way to the front of the party, Miss Drill at her shoulder.

The air inside the Great Hall was impossibly still. It was as though someone had been through the room and systematically removed every trace of life from it. A few tattered strands of bunting still hung from the walls, but there was no longer a draught causing them to flutter pathetically at regular intervals. They hung, limp and lifeless against the battered walls.

"Miss Hyssop!" Imogen was the first to find her voice and break the silent sterile atmosphere, as she spotted the prone figure of the elderly witch in the middle of the hall. She made to take a pace forward but Miss Cackle held her back.

"Fenella, Griselda, get all the girls together and get them out into the courtyard," Miss Cackle ordered sharply. "I don't want anyone coming in here until I say so."

"Yes Miss," Griselda replied quietly, and with Fenella's help, ushered the unresisting party of girls away. Only Mildred hung back, not wanting to leave until she knew what had happened.

"We have to proceed carefully," Amelia warned Imogen. "We have to make sure that it really has gone this time."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Tread carefully!"

Rolling her eyes and wishing that Miss Cackle's words had been a little more reassuring, Imogen ventured into the room, her eyes darting from side to side looking out for anything nasty that might still be lurking in the darkness.

She heard a sharp intake of breath from Amelia and turned to see what had caught her attention.

Moments later her eyes took in the still form of Constance Hardbroom. Imogen froze in place and hoped that she was wrong; hoped that nothing had happened to either witch. She had heard the unearthly shriek from within the hall and knew deep inside that it meant that one of the two were no more; she didn't want to face finding out who it was who had died.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Well finally, here we go. The last part of Closure. I know I've said it before, but huge thanks to those who have had the patience to stay with this and taken the time to review; I really have appreciated the feedback.**_

_**The story was a little longer than I intended, but I think it serves as a good point to sign off. I've enjoyed writing WW, but I think it's time for a break.**_

_**And to all those who stayed with it, but didn't review...well I hope you enjoyed it...It's been nice having you along for the ride as well :)**_

_**SD signing off.**_

**_

* * *

_**"She's gone," Miss Cackle announced softly as she closed Verna's open unseeing eyes with the tips of her fingers. She raised her gaze slowly to meet Imogen's. "Just what happened in here?"

Imogen shook her head. "I can't begin to imagine."

There was the slightest of groans from the still form of Constance, and Amelia was quickly to her feet; scurrying over to her deputy's side.

"Constance…" her tone was hesitant, questioning.

She watched as Constance struggled to open her eyes.

"It's gone," Constance breathed, her voice barely audible. "Miss Hyssop?"

Amelia grimaced. "She's gone as well I'm afraid."

Constance's eyes closed again and she let out a slow shuddering breath.

"Constance?" there was a trace of panic in Amelia's voice.

Imogen moved to Amelia's side and knelt down next to her, reaching out with shaking fingers to check for a pulse.

A smile sprang to her lips as she felt a steady thump beneath her fingers.

"She's indestructible," she whispered and heard a short laugh from Amelia.

"We'd best get her to her room before anyone sees her. She'd be mortified to be seen like this in front of the girls."

Imogen paused as a thought struck her. "She is alright, isn't she?"

The two women looked down at the motionless figure in front of them and then exchanged glances; both of them sharing the same worrying thought.

Imogen rose and turned quickly as she heard a sound behind her. A part of her was expecting the entity to be there, crackling ominously.

She was somewhat relieved when she realised that it was only Mildred. She dropped out of the defensive posture she'd adopted, hoping that Mildred hadn't spotted it. Quite what she thought she was going to be able to do had it been the entity wasn't something she wanted to dwell on. All that she knew at that moment was that she felt more than a little foolish.

"You're supposed to be outside with the others," she reminded Mildred.

"I had to see..." Mildred tailed off as she took in the two prone figures.

Imogen was at her side a moment later, an arm wrapping around her shoulder, pulling her away from the sight.

"Miss Hardbroom's going to be fine," she told the young girl with more belief than she felt.

"And Miss Hyssop?" Imogen heard the quaver in the young girl's voice and knew that there was no point in trying to deceive her.

"She's gone," she whispered and guided Mildred away from the body and towards the door.

Mildred tried to twist away but Imogen held her firm.

"Please Mildred."

"She didn't have to try and take it on by herself," Mildred protested, giving in and letting Imogen direct her towards the door.

"She was obviously trying to save you…and the rest of the school."

"But she didn't have to do it on her own," Mildred fought against the tears that were beginning to form.

Imogen turned her head as she walked, glancing down at the prone figure of Constance. "I get the feeling that she wasn't completely on her own," she told Mildred quietly as she led her from the hall.

"Miss Cackle,"

Amelia turned her head as she heard the hesitant tones of Hortense. The Guild Inspector was standing next to Verna's body, looking uncharacteristically lost.

"I think you and I should have a talk," she suggested quietly.

"And so we shall," Amelia agreed. "But I have a more pressing concern to attend to for the moment."

Hortense glanced around at the state of the hall and then down at the two figures lying prone on the ground. "What are the Guild going to say?" she asked plaintively.

Amelia straightened up and glared at Hortense. "I can honestly say that I don't care one way or the other what the Guild has to say. Three witches worked very hard today to make sure that the rest of us survived a particularly nasty magical onslaught. I for one think that they deserve nothing but the grateful thanks of everyone here. What the Guild has to say on the matter is of little consequence."

Turning her back on Hortense, Amelia knelt back down by Constance's side.

Hortense could only watch her; finding that she couldn't in any way disagree with the angry words that had been spoken.

* * *

An eerie silence fell upon the whole school. The usual rumour mill failed to get into gear, and the girls waited patiently to be told what had happened. Every one of them knew that something major had happened, and something in the air told them that the outcome of the events in the hall had not been entirely successful.

They gathered together quietly in small groups and waited to be told what was happening.

* * *

Hortense stood at the window and looked out at the girls who were walking slowly across the courtyard; the early evening light making them look like shadows as they passed by the window.

"Do you think they'll be ok?"

"What?" Amelia raised her head from the cup of tea she had been staring into and glanced in the direction of Hortense. After a few moments she worked out what the inspector was referring to. She nodded. "They're pretty resilient at that age. It's when you get to our age that things like this really hit home."

Hortense watched as the girls disappeared around the corner of the building. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Thank you for not telling them the truth."

Amelia brushed the thanks away. "Verna did what was right in the end...that's all that's important."

"But Mildred Hubble..."

Amelia smiled softly. "Trust me, she won't say anything...I think she was rather fond of Verna. I don't imagine for one minute that she would want to tarnish the memory of such a fine witch."

Hortense smiled thinly and turned away from the window. "I think perhaps it's best if I don't stay here. I believe that there is a small cafe a short distance away?"

Amelia nodded. "Cosies...I'm sure Mrs Cosie will put you up...if you're certain that you won't stay..."

"I should go...There is enough of an unsettled feeling about the place without me adding to it."

She moved away from the window and made her way across the room.

"I'll send a message to the Guild from the cafe...let them know what's been going on before the rumours start to fly." Hortense caught the concern that glanced across Amelia's face. "After what I've seen today, I think that this school needs its magic rights returning right away." She let out a small smile. "If the Guild have any complaints then they can take them up with me."

"Thank you," Amelia said quietly and returned her attention to the cup that was clasped within her hands.

Hortense nodded in her direction and swept silently from the room.

* * *

Imogen took a deep breath, knocked gently on the door to Constance's room and waited to be given permission to enter. She had to confess that she felt more than a little nervous about doing so and not just because it was Constance. The door to Constance's room had remained locked for the past four days and no-one but Miss Cackle had been permitted to enter. She had reported that Constance was recovering well but had remained quiet when pressed for more details.

Eventually Imogen had decided that enough was enough and that Constance needed to face the world. Licking her lips nervously she pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold. Constance was sitting propped up in her bed, the covers impossibly straight and smooth. She looked frailer somehow, not something that Imogen would ever tell her of course, and she noted the way that the witch's hands seemed to tremble slightly.

"Um…" Imogen struggled to find the right words to open the conversation. Constance was usually the one to dominate the proceedings and Imogen had to admit that she found it more than a little unnerving to see her looking so pale and withdrawn.

"What is it that I can do for you?" Constance asked; the quiet tone of her voice emphasising her weakened state.

Imogen raised the cat basket that she was carrying and tried to ignore the low hiss that came from within.

"I thought I'd bring Morgana back," she explained. "Whilst you….well that is…whilst you were…"

"Thank you for looking after her," Constance saved Imogen from struggling any further. "I'm sure she was trouble."

"No trouble at all," Imogen lied through her teeth and hoped that Constance couldn't see the scratch marks that covered her hands. She placed the basket on the floor and lifted the catch. Morgana stalked haughtily out of the cramped basket, relieved to be back in familiar surroundings.

She'd sensed her owner's presence from the moment that the door to the room had opened; now she just had to determine whether it was the Constance she knew or not.

Imogen watched as the cat padded slowly forward and sniffed the air; her tail twitching from side to side as she explored her surroundings.

Imogen couldn't suppress a smile as the sleek black cat mewed and then hopped up onto the bed without waiting for an invitation; her loud purr making it obvious that she was happy that Constance was back to normal.

"Thank you," Constance repeated, finding it hard to maintain an air of dignity as Morgana gently head-butted her in her search of attention. She noticed that Imogen wasn't making any effort to leave. "Was there perhaps something else?"

Imogen shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and for a moment, Constance was reminded of Mildred.

"There was just one thing," Imogen finally spoke up and took a pace further into the room. "About the memory erase spell…" She paused.

"Yes?"

"Well…." Imogen wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else but she knew that she had to clear the matter up once and for all. "I just want to know…did I ask you to cast the spell?"

Constance raised an eyebrow and Imogen felt obliged to explain further.

"Did I ask you to cast the spell after I'd looked in your file?"

Constance nodded. "You did."

"Then I want you to leave it as it is." Imogen noted the slight surprise on Constance's face. "I know what the Witches Guild will rule but surely I have the right to decide whether or not the spell is reversed. If you cast it, then you cast it for a reason and that's good enough for me. I don't need to know anymore."

Imogen didn't wait for an answer from Constance but simply turned on her heel and left the room, closing the door silently behind her.

Had Imogen turned to look, she would have seen a slightly puzzled expression on Constance's face. That certainly hadn't been what she had been expecting. She shook her head in mild disbelief and turned her attention to Morgana who was now curled up next to her mistress and purring like an engine. She scratched the cat behind her ears and listened as the purr grew even louder.

* * *

The sunlight danced through the branches of the trees and made patterns on the weather-beaten tombstones that filled the small churchyard. Squirrels darted through the overgrown grass and fallen leaves that surrounded the plots, and foraged for food, oblivious to the events that were taking place around them.

The churchyard itself was filled with figures, all dressed in formal robes, all standing sombrely as the service was concluded.

"I think she'll like it here," Hortense said softly, her breath appearing as tiny white puffs on the frigid cold air. "She always said just how much she loved this part of the world."

"I'm sorry that it had to come to this," Amelia confessed.

"It was a very brave thing that she did," a voice from behind them announced.

Amelia spun round, surprised to see Constance standing behind her.

"I thought you were…."

"I wasn't going to miss paying my respects," Constance explained quietly.

Amelia looked at the deep black rings that underlined her deputy's eyes and the way that her hands still trembled slightly, and resolved that, no matter what the protests, Constance was going straight back to her room once the ceremony was concluded and she was not going to be allowed out until at least a little colour had returned.

"I really should be going," Hortense held out a hand to Amelia. "I can promise you that my full report to the Guild will be a fair one. I'll stress just how powerful the entity was, and how everything was done to prevent it getting a hold within the school."

"Thank you," Amelia smiled in return, accepting the proffered hand and shaking it warmly.

"And I'll make sure that the Guild are aware of the part that you played in saving the school," Hortense turned to face Constance.

"All credit should go to Miss Hyssop," Constance insisted, shrugging off Hortense's offer. "After all, she was the one who made the sacrifice."

"No false modesty Constance," Hortense began to argue as Constance turned and walked away but her words were halted by Miss Cackle's hand on her arm.

"I'd let Constance have things her own way," Amelia told her quietly. "I rather think she prefers to stay out of the spotlight."

"She does like getting her own way," Hortense remarked quietly, but let the matter drop.

She glanced up at the clear blue sky and let out a long breath.

"I suppose I did come here with a very definite agenda," she paused and watched a blackbird as it arced across the sky. "It's just that the stories that reach the Guild about this place are, quite frankly, unbelievable."

Amelia's face relaxed into a wry smile. "You know what young witches are."

Hortense raised an eyebrow. "I know exactly what young witches are capable of, and yet I'm still at something of a loss to explain the happenings that take place within these castle walls."

Amelia smiled quietly to herself and gestured back towards the castle. "Before you go, I think perhaps we should discuss a few things...in my office...over a slice of cheesecake perhaps?"

Hortense nodded her assent. "Lead the way."

The two witches set of through the long damp grass, leaving the others to finish paying their respects.

* * *

Mildred stood at the graveside and wiped a tear away from her eye.

"She died doing something good," a voice at her shoulder told her. "That's what you should remember."

Mildred turned to see Miss Hardbroom standing silently at her side.

"There should have been another way," she protested, trying not to notice the way that her form teacher seemed unsteady on her feet.

"Perhaps," Constance agreed. "But life is seldom a fairytale, with neat precise endings where everyone gets to live happily ever after."

Mildred shuffled her weight from one foot to the other.

"It is all over though, isn't it?" She paused. "I mean really over."

Constance nodded and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as though trying to keep out the chill in the air.

"It's gone. Miss Hyssop saw to that."

Mildred shivered. "When I saw it again in the hall..." she tailed off, realising that perhaps Miss Hardbroom wouldn't want to relive the events of the past few days.

"You did a very foolhardy thing," Constance broke the silence. "...Charging into the hall like that."

Mildred's head dropped.

"But I should thank you for helping Miss Hyssop to realise what was really going on," Constance's voice softened as she spoke.

Mildred shuffled nervously again.

"...And I should also thank you for helping to save my life."

Mildred raised her head; a look of surprise on her face.

"Just don't make a habit out of flying blindly into danger," Constance continued, her voice switching back to its usual hard tone. "You could land yourself in real trouble that way. And let's not get into the subject of stealing other people's brooms...."

In the far corner of the churchyard, Enid pulled on Maud's arm and nodded in the direction of the two figures standing by the grave.

"That's a sight I don't think I'll ever get used to," she admitted. "It almost looks as though they're friends."

Maud shook her head. "I think it'd take the end of the world to make HB friends with anyone; she's probably telling Mildred off for wearing her hat at the wrong angle."

Enid smiled briefly and continued to watch the conversation that was taking place.

"Did you see HB?" she finally asked Maud. "Up close I mean."

Her friend nodded. "I thought at one point that Miss Cackle was going to offer her a chair."

The two girls exchanged glances, both of them imagining HB's reaction to such a suggestion.

"What are you two smiling at?"

The two girls turned around guiltily, only to relax when they realised that the voice belonged to Jadu.

"I could ask you the same question," Enid remarked, noticing the smile that was ghosting at the edges of her friend's mouth.

"I had a note from my dad this morning," she told the others. "It seems he's persuaded my mum that moving me at this stage would be a bad thing."

"That's great," Maud enthused, clutching her friend's arm. "What brought about the change of heart?"

Jadu shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I get the feeling that someone from the Guild contacted them."

Enid and Maud exchanged glances.

"So it looks as though Cackle's is in the clear?"

Jadu nodded. "Miss Spellbinder does seem to have experienced something of a change of heart."

"I wonder what happened in the Great Hall?" Maud wondered.

Enid shook her head. "I bet that that's something else we never get to hear about."

"Well I for one don't care," Jadu announced, placing her arms around her friend's shoulders. "Just as long as I can stay here at Cackles."

* * *

Amelia shook Hortense's hand for the final time and watched as the Guild Inspector headed across the courtyard in search of her broom.

She turned her head, knowing that Constance would be there; her deputy had the unerring ability to appear at just the right moment.

"I don't think we'll be getting any more trouble with the Guild," she remarked.

"Playing the political game are we?" Constance enquired.

Amelia smiled. "Let's just say that we came to a little arrangement."

Constance frowned. "Are you sure that that's wise?"

"Rest assured that everything will be squared away. Magic has officially returned to Cackles as of today and all the recent unpleasantness has been ascribed to the influence of the entity."

"With Miss Hyssop gaining the credit for the entity's final defeat?"

Amelia nodded. "I'm sure that some award will be announced for her selfless act." She risked a glance out of the corner of her eye. "Are you sure that you're ready to return to work?"

Constance stiffened. "Of course."

"It's just that you..." she tailed off, not certain of how to explain herself without upsetting Constance.

"I am more than capable of returning to work," Constance replied coldly. "There is a mess in the Great Hall that needs sorting out...not to mention the state that the girls' rooms are in...."

Amelia smiled, relieved to hear the frustration in Constance's tone. "So is everything resolved between the two of you?" she asked nervously as she watched Hortense Spellbinder's broom circle gently around the castle battlements before carrying its passenger up and away into the fading sunlight.

Constance smiled faintly. "Of course not."

She moved away from Amelia's side before another question could be asked, leaving Amelia shaking her head and wondering if she'd ever truly understand her deputy.


End file.
